


The Education of Oliver Wood

by rubberduckz84



Series: MacKenzie Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Grief, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 89,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberduckz84/pseuds/rubberduckz84
Summary: (Sequel to The Reckoning of Emmie MacKenzie) Being in a war changes you. It changes everyone. Everything. And sometimes, two people have to fall apart before they realize how they can fall back together.Don't own anything created by J.K. Rowling, but I do own Emmie and all the non-canon Hufflepuffs.Setting: Post War (1998)Rating: M (Language, Alcohol Abuse, Trauma, Sexual Situations)
Series: MacKenzie Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573192
Comments: 33
Kudos: 28





	1. A New Start

_What if, you and I were meant to part ways, only so that we could find each other again._

Emmie MacKenzie stared at herself in the full-length mirror in her room, scarcely believing that this day had finally come. It felt like it was ages in the making, almost. And a desperately needed win after everything that had happened the last few years, in her book.

Her long strawberry blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she was dressed casually - she’d change into her practice kit as soon as she arrived at the stadium anyway. But still, there was something different about the 22-year-old face that was staring back at her in the mirror. 

It was her eyes, she decided. There was a hint of something in them that hadn’t been there before. Granted, after the last couple of years, she figured everyone had a hint of something to them that wasn’t there before. She wasn’t any different from everyone else in that regard.

Yes, she had taken Cedric’s death in the Triwizard Tournament particularly hard - even though they had broken up two years before that, they had stayed good friends. He had even written her a few times during the festivities and seemed sure that he would win or at least come in second behind Harry Potter. That was as good enough a win for him, he had said at the time. Though Emmie could tell he desperately wanted to win. But everyone had taken his unexpected death hard. Everyone in Hufflepuff, at least. Oliver hadn’t quite understood why she was upset for so long, though part of that was alleviated when everyone’s suspicions behind his death had been confirmed a year after when Voldemort revealed himself in the Ministry of Magic.

She supposed Cedric’s death had been the beginning of the downward spiral for her and Oliver as well, though it was later exacerbated when the war started up in full swing. 

Emmie shook her head, pushing Oliver out of her mind. The last thing she wanted to think about today was her ex-boyfriend - they _had_ been broken up almost two years now. Though it had proven hard after the Battle of Hogwarts. He had a way of sneaking into her thoughts more often than not since then, even though she had sworn to herself that she was officially over and done with him. That she wouldn’t give him another chance to hurt her.

Sighing, she reached down and grabbed her team bag before walking out into the living room and kitchen where her best friend and roommate Kara was perched at the island, a mug of coffee in her hands. She was already impeccably dressed, ready to head off to her job in the International Magical Office of Law at the Ministry. While she had left during the brief reign death eaters had held over the Ministry, her former boss was now reinstated and had welcomed her back just after the battle with open arms. Helped that Kara had a knack for understanding and explaining complicated wizarding law.

“How is the newest first-string chaser for the Arrows doing this morning?” Kara asked, a smile on her face.

“Nervous,” Emmie said honestly, dropping her bag to the floor as she walked into the kitchen and made her way to the fridge.

“Don’t be. You’ll be great,” Kara said.

“I was beginning to wonder… spent enough time on reserves…” Emmie said, as she pulled out a container of fruit that she had cut up the night before. 

She had spent the last four years on the Arrows reserves team, wondering when or if she’d ever make first string. It had gotten frustrating, especially when the others on the Hufflepuff team had made first string rather quickly. Even Oliver had been put on Puddlemere’s first string his second season in. Emmie had started doubting her own abilities on the pitch there for a while. Still did to an extent.

“Posh. We both know it was only because there were no open spots for forever,” Kara said, waving her hand in the air. “They gave you one of the better reserves contracts, after all. And it did keep you from transferring to the Pride when they offered a first-string spot a couple years ago. Trust me, Em. Arrows has wanted you on first string since they signed you and you wouldn’t be happy playing first string anywhere else.”

“It took two chasers dying in the war for the spots to open up,” Emmie replied dryly, glancing at her.

“Well… yes, that’s unfortunate, but today is about focusing on the future. You’re going to be the next greatest chaser in the League,” Kara said brightly. Emmie offered her a half smile. She appreciated Kara’s enthusiasm and attempts to cheer her up.

In the months since the battle at Hogwarts, she seriously needed some good news and cheering up. They all did, really. They had gone back to fight. Seen things that no one should have to see. Emmie still had nightmares about the dead faces of her schoolmates. Death eaters gleefully killing at random. Her own brother jumping in front of a curse meant for her.

But that was another thing that Emmie didn’t want to dwell on today of all days.

“So… you’re finally playing first string on the Arrows. Life is returning to normal. Think you might be open to dating again?” Kara asked casually as she sipped her coffee. Emmie chuckled as she walked over to the island, her fruit and a fork in hand.

“Seriously?” she asked.

“I’m just saying… Karl asked how you were doing when I went home to visit this weekend,” Kara said, putting her mug down. Emmie rolled her eyes. Kara had been trying to set her up with her twin for the better part of a year now. 

“We’ve been over this. While I like Karl, I’m not interested in dating him,” Emmie said. 

“It’s not like he’s the worst bloke out there,” Kara said, defending him. “Sure he can be a bit dry, but he’s got a good heart. And he’s really opened up since we graduated. Not to mention, he’s loads better than Ol-” Kara shut her mouth quickly before she finished the name, knowing she had tread upon thin ice.

Oliver’s name had been considered a curse in the flat since the battle - the man himself persona non grata. Emmie frowned as she stabbed at piece of fruit and then popped it into her mouth as she chewed angrily. 

Emmie still couldn’t quite figure out just when it was that things had changed. No, that wasn’t true. She knew why and how. She just didn’t understand it at all. They had two blissful years together before it all started to fall apart. She didn’t even recognize the man he had become.

“I’d rather not get into that,” Emmie said after she had swallowed the fruit. 

“Right… sorry,” Kara said. Emmie looked down at her fruit, suddenly not so hungry anymore, but she knew that she needed to eat before practice so forced herself to eat as much of it as she could before returning it to the fridge.

“Good luck today,” Kara said with a smile as Emmie walked over and picked up her bag again. 

“Thanks.”

~~~

Emmie stopped for a moment after she stepped into the locker room, taking it all in. A small smile came across her face as she looked over and saw a locker with “E. MacKenzie” on a small gold plate on it. Quickly making her way over, she opened in and relished the feel of her game robes before looking at her name and number on the back. On the shelf at the top, her practice uniform and workout clothes were carefully folded. She quickly dropped her bag and opened it, pulling out her pads that she carefully placed in her locker. They would do conditioning in the gym in the morning and move to working on the pitch that afternoon. For now, she just needed to put on her workout clothes.

A bit of ruckus could be heard outside the room. Stopping for a moment she looked over her shoulder as a group of people made their way into the room.

“There she is,” Thomas Fincher, her old quidditch captain from Hufflepuff, said as he walked over to her and pulled her into a crushing hug. Emmie couldn’t help but laugh. She was happy to have a familiar face on the team. He had been playing keeper for the Arrows for the last three seasons. He stepped back and looked over at the others. “Told you she’d be promoted soon enough.”

“Yea, yea, we’ve heard it all before,” a tall blonde man said as he rolled his eyes slightly. He then held his hand out to Emmie, offering her a friendly smile. “Anthony Beauchamp. I’m center chase and captain.” Emmie smiled at him. It wasn’t as though she needed any introductions - she had known every Arrows line-up since the 80s. “Here we’ve got Niall Wickens and Roger Martins - beaters.” Two sturdy men smiled and nodded towards her. “And then that’s Taylor Bellweather - seeker.” 

“Hello,” Emmie said, waving. The slight woman with dark brown hair smiled warmly at her.

“Nice to have another woman on the team,” she said, offering a wink.

“Oi! I thought you loved us!” Wickens shouted, pretending to be hurt.

“Gettin’ a bit on my nerves, actually,” Taylor said, still smiling. 

“And then here’s our other new chaser - Adrian Pucey,” Anthony continued. Emmie’s eyes widened as he glanced around the room slightly nervously before nodding.

“Nice to meet you all,” he said before moving towards his locker which was conveniently next to Emmie’s.

“If you need anything or anyone gives you rookies any trouble, you can always come to me,” Anthony finished. Taylor snorted as she looked over at him while pulling her hair back into a pony-tail.

“Right… when have you ever helped anyone but yourself?” she scoffed. Anthony frowned.

“Oh shut it, Bellweather,” he said, moving to his locker. Fincher chuckled from Emmie’s other side. “I expect everyone to be in the gym in 10 minutes!”

Emmie nervously glanced at Adrian to her other side. She had heard rumors that the Arrows were trying to scout him from the Wasps, but hadn’t realized they had gone through with it. Must have offered him a good signing bonus as he had been playing first string with them for two years. She hadn’t really seen much of him since school, to be honest. And it wasn’t as though she was particularly friendly with him even then.

“Doing alright, MacKenzie?” he asked after he pulled his shirt off, looking over at her. Emmie blushed slightly, not realizing that he had caught her looking at him.

“Yea, I suppose,” she replied, quickly getting out of her own shirt and reaching for the soft tank top provided and slipping it over her head. “You?”

“Yea, alright,” he said, pulling his own shirt on. Emmie couldn’t help but notice how fit he was. Professional quidditch had been very good to Adrian Pucey. 

Bloody hell, she needed to stop thinking that way. He was her teammate after all. And best friends with Marcus Flint. Though it was years ago, Flint still left a bad taste in her mouth. 

“Come on, Mac. Time to get started on your first day,” Fincher said, pulling her from her thoughts. Emmie nodded and quickly finished changing. 

This was it.

~~~

Emmie stretched a bit as the team sat on the benches in the locker room, waiting on the coach to come in for a final talk before they changed and headed home. A good sort of ache had settled into her muscles, one that told her she had gotten in a good workout. While she had been worried at the start of practice, she quickly found her groove and thought it went rather well. Coach Shackles had complimented her on her passing and even Beauchamp had looked impressed. Helped that both seemed keen on seeing what sort of tricks she could pull out for the season. She, Adrian, and Beauchamp would start working with the chaser coach tomorrow on more individualized training. 

Emmie, for one, was excited about that. 

“Alright team. Good practice, but we’ll need to take it up a few notches,” Shackles said as he walked in, a batch of parchments in his hand. He began handing them out. “We’re playing the opening match of the season against Puddlmere and that’s only a month away.” 

Emmie’s face blanched slightly as she looked down at the season schedule, seeing Puddlmere United written next to the Arrows at the top of the page. She hadn’t seen Oliver since the battle and wasn’t quite prepared to be playing against him so soon. Granted, if the reports were anything to go by from the summer training so far, she wouldn’t have much to worry about. 

“Now, Puddlemere is still ranked in the top 10, so we won’t go light on training. I want us to get off to a strong start, especially with our new players,” Shackles continued, settling his gaze on Emmie and Adrian. “That’s it. I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow.” 

With that, the coach turned and left the locker room. The others stood and started to peel off their dirty practice robes and pads, while Emmie remained seated, going over the schedule. 

“Anything you can give us about Wood?” Wickens asked. Emmie looked up at him, seeing the dark-haired man grinning at her.

“Not sure what good I could be,” she said, frowning slightly. She could see Fincher tense slightly out of the corner of her eye, already moving to stand behind her.

“You were with him a fair amount of time. Sure there’s loads you know about Wood that we don’t,” Wickens said with a wink. Taylor punched him in the arm, glaring at him. Emmie smoothly stood, her cool gaze fixed on the beater.

“Fairly sure there’s a lot of things that a lot of witches know about him now, if Witch Weekly is to be believed,” she replied dryly, turning to her locker and starting to get out of her robes. “Though from what I can tell, shouldn’t be that much of a threat.” 

The room was silent a bit before Wickens started laughing loudly. Emmie glanced over at him, slightly confused by his reaction.

“Yea, I think you’ll fit in quite well with us, MacKenzie,” he said. Emmie noticed the twinkle in his eye and couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“It’s Mac, by the way. Everyone calls me Mac,” she offered. The beater nodded and returned to changing. 

After she had stripped down to her sports bra and underwear, Emmie pulled on her shower robe and moved to the women’s shower room, following Taylor.

“Wickens can get to be a bit much,” Taylor said to her, glancing over her shoulder as she finished undressing and turned on the hot water. “He means well, but… bit of a blockhead at times.”

“It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle,” Emmie said lightly. “Had some trouble with a bloke loads worse than that my sixth year and learned how to look out for myself.”

“What’d you do?” Taylor asked.

“Hexed him so badly he was in the hospital wing for two days,” Emmie replied with a grin. Taylor laughed loudly. 

“Oh, you will fit in nicely,” she replied. “But still felt I should apologize for him… bringing up your ex like that…” Emmie shrugged.

“It’s been a long time now,” she replied. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised when it comes up… seeing his current notoriety…” Taylor gave her a sympathetic look.

“I know how that can go. It’s why I vowed never to date in the League again,” she said with a sigh. “And I meant it. It’s nice to have another woman around. The lads are nice and all, but bring out a tampon or mention cramps and I might as well have the bloody plague.”

“I was the only girl on Hufflepuff, so I guess I’m used to it. But yea, supposed it’s nice to have another woman around,” Emmie said, genuinely happy for a bit of female companionship in the locker room.

“Yea, well, us girls have got to stick together,” Taylor stated matter-of-factly. 

“Too true,” Emmie replied. 

They continued on chatting about this and that, with Emmie deciding that she quite liked the seeker. Soon enough, she was finished showering and dressed, putting the last of her things in her bag. She had spent hours yesterday taking care of her broom, but thought it could use a bit of light maintenance when she got home. 

“Mac,” Fincher said, walking up to her. She straightened up, looking towards him as the rest of the team filed out of the room, the beaters loudly telling jokes as Beauchamp laughed. Adrian offered a silent half wave before he left. “Seems you had a good first practice.”

“Yea, it’s a bit harder than reserves, but I’m up for the challenge,” Emmie said, smiling. 

“Course you are. Dare say you could be in the running for rookie of the year,” Fincher said. Emmie blushed slightly. “Good to see a bit of the old Mac is still there.” Emmie chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks, Fincher,” she said. 

“How’s Alex?” he asked. The grin immediately fell from Emmie’s face at the mention of her older brother. Seemed today was the day of sore subjects, though she couldn’t blame him from asking. Alex had completely fallen out of public view since the battle and didn’t answer any of the owls sent to him, even her own. She still checked in with her mum every week, but it didn’t seem like he was coming out of his reclusiveness any time soon.

“He’s, well… he’s got good days and bad days. Still more bad than good at the moment, but his healers think he’s making progress,” she said, looking away from him. “I don’t see him that much…”

“Suppose it’s not been easy,” Fincher said, rubbing the back of his neck. Emmie shook her head, then reached down and picked up her bag.

“Hasn’t been easy for anyone,” she said. 

“That’s true…”

“Well… I should get going. Kara’s likely to want a complete rundown of everything as soon as I get home even though she still barely stands the sport,” Emmie said, pushing as much fake enthusiasm in her voice as she could.

“See you tomorrow, Mac,” Fincher said.

“Later…”


	2. Last Chance

Oliver Wood sighed as he glanced around the empty office, taking in all the photographs and awards on the walls. It wasn’t his first time summoned to the manager’s office at Puddlemere Stadium. But something about this time had his stomach churning slightly. Whether it was from nerves or his hangover, he wasn’t completely sure at the moment. 

Glancing around, he saw the latest Prophet on his desk and sat up, reaching for it. He didn’t know how long the manager was going to be, so figured he’d at least check up on the news. He quickly moved through all the news about the restoration of the wizarding world, finding he didn’t need any more reminders of the hell they had all lived during the war. He finally stopped at the sports section, browsing through the headlines.

_Arrows pulls up Emmie MacKenzie from reserves, signs Adrian Pucey_

Oliver’s breath hitched slightly as he sat up and leaned towards the paper, going through the article.

_With two chaser spots left open after the war, the Arrows is going for young blood as replacements. Pucey has been playing first string chaser for the Wasps for the last two seasons and shown strong stats since his time as chaser for Slytherin house at Hogwarts. MacKenzie is the daughter of legendary player Calum MacKenzie and sister to Wanderers star chaser Alex MacKenzie - currently on injury leave - and looks to have a promising career of her own ahead of her. She was signed to the Arrows reserves straight from Hogwarts in 1994._

_“We signed MacKenzie knowing full well that she would take the first open chaser spot, though it was unfortunately through sad circumstances,” Coach Shackles said. “But we knew from day 1 that she was going to be a great asset to the Arrows program. We’re happy to have both her and Pucey join the team.”_

Oliver sat back in the chair, staring at the photo of Emmie in her Arrows uniform, a small smile on her face. It was different from the smile he was used to - the one that seemed to fill her entire face and was contagious. 

But it still didn’t change the fact that she was finally playing first string, something he thought should have happened a long time ago. She was brilliant on the pitch and was one of the highest-ranking chasers in the reserves. She had only gotten better after they left Hogwarts. Part of him wished that he could congratulate her. But he was likely the last person she wanted to hear from, considering how things went down the last time they spoke to each other. 

Oliver folded up the paper and put it back on the desk, then sat back in his chair, his mind wandering back a few years. When things had been good. Before… everything. They had over two good, strong years together. And Oliver would be lying if he said he didn’t miss them. That he didn’t miss her. 

But it was too late. He had made his bed and now he had to lie in it. Even though half the time he wasn’t lying in it alone. 

“Good to see you’ve finally learned to get here on time,” Philbert Deverill, the team manager said, striding into his office. Oliver immediately sat up and then gulped slightly, seeing Miles Thatcher, the team owner at his side. This couldn’t be good. 

“Mr. Wood,” Thatcher said, a frown clearly on his face.

“Mr. Deverill. Mr. Thatcher,” he said, looking back and forth between the two as he stood. They both remained standing as Deverill waved his wand and shut the door. Oliver went back and forth on whether he should sit or remain standing. As they made no move to sit, he decided that was the best course of action, putting his hands behind his back so that he wouldn’t inadvertently begin wringing them. 

“I suppose you know what this is about,” Deverill said.

“My performance last season,” Oliver replied quickly. 

“Fair bit more than that,” Thatcher said, tossing several magical magazines and newspapers down on the desk in front of him. Oliver glanced at them and then back up at the two. He didn’t need to read them to know what was in them. It was always the same thing.

The parties. The brawls. The women.

“Your stats are very nearly in the gutter compared to when you started with us,” Deverill said. “More than that, you’ve been late to practice nearly every day all summer. And then there’s the filth that the gossip rags are constantly on about.”

“I didn’t think my personal life had anything to do with quidditch,” Oliver said, slightly defensive. 

“It does when you go around shagging half the women in the League and then drinking yourself into the gutter nearly every night!” Deverill shouted. Thatcher shot him a look that clearly said to calm down. Deverill took a deep breath and closed his eyes a moment before opening them and fixing a stern gaze on the keeper. “Look… I could give you a bit of slack when… before. And even right after the battle. But it’s gone on far too long, Wood. It’s become habit by now.”

“If you can’t get your stats back up by the end of the season and clean up your act, we’re moving you back to reserves and cutting your pay. If it continues beyond that, we have no choice but to cut you from the program completely,” Thatcher said firmly. “You keep this up and we’re basically throwing our money out the window.” 

“Get your shit together, Wood,” Deverill added. Oliver looked back and forth between the two. To be honest, he should have been expecting this. He had been sliding for a fair amount of time now - way before the battle of Hogwarts. But the alcohol had been the only thing that seemed to really numb the pain. The one-night stands to treat his self-imposed loneliness.

However, now that his career was on the line, perhaps it was time to rethink some things. 

“Understood,” he said.

“Good. Get down to the locker room. Time for training to start up,” Deverill said, clearly dismissing him. Oliver nodded and walked out of the room.

“It’s a fucking waste of talent,” he heard Deverill rant. “Could easily be one of the best keepers in the League - even better than his brother - and he’s just wasting it.”

“He’s been through a lot,” Thatcher countered.

“Yea? Well, we’ve all lost people and yet we’re still getting on with life. Bout time he did too,” Deverill said.

Oliver sighed and picked up his pace, not wishing to hear anymore. The sooner he could get on the pitch, the better.

~~~

For once, he was the first one in the locker room and quietly set about to getting ready for the morning training session. His headache had worn off a bit after the meeting as he started focusing on what he could do to try and turn things around. He’d need to stop going out as much, for starters. That wouldn’t be so hard. He was starting to grow weary of the non-stop parties and nights at the pub. He then supposed he should lay off on the drinking at home as well. 

He sighed and shook his head. How had he let things get this bad?

“Ah, look who’s arrived early,” a voice boomed. Oliver winced and glanced over his shoulder, seeing Luke Carpenter walk in, followed by the other chasers Wilda Griffiths and Logan Walters.

“Stay up all night and just come in again?” Walters asked, grinning at him. Wilda rolled her eyes before sending a worried look Oliver’s way.

“Ehm, no. Just had a meeting this morning with Thatcher and Deverill,” Oliver said, turning back to his locker and focusing on getting ready.

“How was that lovely witch you met last night, by the way?” Carpenter asked, waggling his eyebrows at him.

“Ehm… fine, I suppose,” Oliver said, burying his head in his locker. Truth be told, they had parted ways just after they left the pub. He had been too drunk and tired to do anything anyway.

“Fine, eh?” Carpenter replied with a laugh. Oliver fell silent as the rest of the team came in and started chatting about training and such. Despite being the first in, Oliver lingered behind them as they all headed to the gym.

“How bad was it?” Wilda asked, stepping over to him. Oliver looked at her, frowning. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. She sighed and shook her head.

“Overheard Weathers talking to Deverill,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her. “I know what’s going on.”

“Ah, you do then?” he asked a bit harshly. Though she was new to the team, she took her role as captain quite seriously. And it got under his skin more often than not. 

“I know if you don’t turn things around, you’ll be on reserves again or worse - cut completely,” she said. “For God’s sake, this is your career, Wood.”

“I know, Griffiths,” he nearly shouted, turning to face her. 

“Then get it together,” she ordered before turning and walking out of the room. Oliver sighed and shook his head. This was bloody brilliant.

~~~

Oliver groaned slightly as he pulled off his keeper pads and tossed them into his locker, wincing. He had taken a few too many bludgers during practice, though it was less than last practice, which he felt was a good sign. Perhaps he could turn it back on and save himself from being demoted. 

“You lot see the new signings?” Carpenter asked, glancing around the locker room.

“Seems there’s a lot this season,” Mitch McCollen, one of the beaters, said with a sigh. “We did lose quite a few good players during the war…”

“Shame MacKenzie’s out for the season,” Tonya Masters, the other beater, replied.

“You’re only sad because he’s one of the fittest players in the League,” Walters called out with a laugh.

“Am not,” Tonya shouted in return, throwing her towel at him. “He was good. Just hitting his prime. Sad to see someone like that out for a season or for good.”

“Speaking of MacKenzies… you hear his little sister got promoted,” Carpenter said, shooting a look Oliver’s way. The keeper kept his attention focused on getting out of his practice uniform. “Chaser on the Arrows.”

“Now that is someone fit,” McCollen said with a chuckle. Oliver shot a glare at him before tossing the last of his pads into his locker with a bit more force than he intended. 

“Please, I doubt any of you could keep up with her,” Wilda said. “She’s fast. And daring.” 

“Got any pointers you could give us, Wood?” Carpenter called out. Oliver stopped after he grabbed his towel from the locker. 

“Yea… if she gets the quaffle from you, just give up. You won’t see nothing but her broom tail,” he replied before skulking to the showers. 

“Seems someone is still sore,” he heard Walters comment.

“Shut it. You know how close they all were - him, Emmie, Alex, and Ryan,” Wilda chided. 

“So?”

“Idiot…”

~~~

Oliver walked into the darkened flat and waved his wand, soft light flooding it. He stopped and looked around, taking in the empty bottles and food containers littering the coffee table and various other junk lying about, including discarded newspapers and magazines. His broom cleaning kit was still out and scattered about the room along with various quidditch gear.

His eyes roamed around the walls, taking in their bareness. There had been photos up once upon a time, but in an angry, drunken rage a year or so ago, he had ripped them all down and shattered the frames. He had the wherewithal to clean them up the next day, but rather than throwing them away or fixing them and putting them back up, he had shut them up in the spare bedroom where he had taken to keeping things he didn’t want to see on a daily basis.

It had gotten rather crowded of late.

Sighing, he dropped his team bag and made his way to the small kitchen, where he sat his take-out down on the table and walked to the fridge, pulling out a beer and then opening it. His thoughts roamed back through the day as he sat down and stared at the bag. 

He needed to start playing better or he would be kicked off first string. No, more than that. He was ordered to get his shit together. But where did he even begin to start with that? It was easier to focus on playing. Perhaps if he did that, the rest of it would fall into place. Oliver laughed harshly to himself. Who was he kidding? There were some things in his life that would never come back together. 

_You could start with cleaning up this mess…_

He looked up and around the room, surprised by the presence of the voice in his head. He knew it was just a figment of his imagination - he had heard it enough over a nearly three-year span of time. But it did have a point as he took in the wreck that was his flat. He pushed up from the table and looked around the dirty kitchen a bit before waving his wand and watching as the rubbish collected itself in bags and the dishes started washing themselves in the sink. He then turned and walked into the living room and waved his wand again, standing and watching as the empty bottles and rubbish were gathered into bags and the newspapers and magazines organized themselves into a neat stack on the coffee table. His broom kit packed itself up and flew over to a corner. 

While it wasn’t perfect, at least it was no longer embarrassing levels of untidy. Not that it mattered - no one came here anymore. Not even his parents. But there had been a time when he was never alone here…

~~~

_“Seriously, it’s not that hard to clean,” Emmie said with a laugh as she plopped next to Oliver on the sofa, clad in one of his Puddlemere practice shirts. It was practically a dress on her._

_“But you do it so much better,” Oliver said with a grin, pulling her close to him and kissing her cheek._

_“No. Not happening. I’ll teach you the spells, but I am not becoming your maid. I’m your girlfriend,” she said, pushing him away. “‘Sides, reserves takes up a fair bit of my time, if you haven’t noticed.”_

_“Where’s Perce when you need him?” Oliver asked with a sigh._

_“Busy with the Ministry, I suspect. Said he was going to be at Hogwarts most of the year with the tournament going on,” Emmie replied, reaching for her mug of tea._

_“How’s Diggory doing?” Oliver asked._

_“Good. Think he’s tied with Harry from what his last letter said,” Emmie replied. “Shame I couldn’t be there to see it… he’s going to put Hufflepuff on the map.”_

_“Though that was you playing first string on the Arrows?” Oliver asked with a smile._

_“Well… not yet,” Emmie said._

_“But soon,” he pushed. “Suspect you could get promoted next season.”_

_“Aren’t any open spots unless someone gets traded,” Emmie said glumly. Oliver wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close._

_“Trust me… it’ll be sooner rather than later,” he said. “Then I’ll get promoted to first string on Puddlemere and everything will be perfect.” Emmie chuckled as she kissed him._

_“You always know what to say to cheer me up…”_

~~~

_Oliver stood in the living room of Emmie’s flat, unsure of what to do or say. She was on the sofa, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks puffy and wet as she stared at the floor._

_“He’s gone,” she said softly. “I just…”_

_He wasn’t sure how he felt in that moment. He was sad that Cedric had died, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure just why Emmie was so upset about it. Yes, they had been friends. And dated a bit, but it was only a few weeks and years ago. She had spent the last two days in a haze, not leaving her flat and constantly crying. Kara hadn’t been much help, just telling him to let her cry it out._

_“But… Em… it’s been days,” he said, taking a step towards her. Emmie frowned as she looked up at him._

_“He’s dead, Oliver,” she said. “And if Harry’s to be believed…” She shook her head and looked back to the ground, pulling a cushion into her lap, hugging it tightly. “The funeral is in a few days. His father asked me to come…”_

_“I didn’t realize you were still close to him,” Oliver said. Emmie looked back up at him, the frown still there. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much, but it did. And that must have slipped out in his voice from the look on Emmie’s face._

_“We were friends,” she said harshly. “He was in my house. Spent a fair more time talking to me than you did at school.” Tense silence hung in the air. “Are you planning on coming with me?”_

_“Suppose,” Oliver replied. Emmie nodded and returned to staring at the floor. Oliver shifted on his feet, unsure of what to do. Did he hug her? Make her tea?_

_“If you’re just going to stand there, you can leave,” Emmie said._

_“What do you want me to do?” Oliver asked, feeling his temper rise just a little. He knew she was grieving, but that was no reason to be angry with him._

_“Something more than just staring at me like I’m mental,” she replied._

_“I don’t think you’re mental,” he said immediately, taking a step towards her._

_“You obviously think I’m overreacting,” she said._

_“It’s been days and you’ve barely left your flat!” Oliver shouted, letting his frustration come out in force. “I mean… yea, I know he was your friend and ex, but-”_

_“Is that what this is about?” Emmie shot back at him. “The fact that we dated for a few weeks a couple years ago?!”_

_“No, I just don’t understand-”_

_“Yes, you obviously don’t understand,” she said, rising from the sofa. “Let me break it down for you. A good friend of mine has just been killed. At 17. Likely by You Know Who. And we don’t know what any of this means! So, forgive me if I need a few days to try and wrap my head around it! Quite honestly, I can’t see why you’re not more upset by this!”_

_“We don’t know that it was You Know Who,” Oliver said._

_“So you think Harry is lying?” Emmie asked._

_“No, I just… Merlin, Em. This is… this is… I don’t know what to make of it!” he shouted back._

_“Then perhaps we should take a few days apart so you can figure that out,” she spat before turning and walking to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. Oliver just stared at it a few moments before walking over and knocking._

_“Just… let me in, Em…”_

~~~

Oliver frowned as he shook the memories from his head. While they had made up shortly after that fight, it wasn’t the last. In fact, it was the start of many. Over many things. And then a little over a year later, his world completely fell apart. In a way, it should have brought them closer - he finally understood what Emmie was going through when Cedric died. But it hadn’t. It had done the opposite. 

Didn’t help that she had gone out of her way to try and make up for how short she had been with him that day. Had been patient with him. But everyone had their limits of what they could handle. Emmie hadn’t gotten the chance to reach hers before he had pushed her away completely. 

Swallowing, Oliver walked back to the kitchen, ignoring the beer and food on the table, going straight for the firewhiskey he kept in the cabinet. He didn’t even bother grabbing a glass as he walked back to the living room and sat on the sofa in the quiet empty flat. He took a drink and continued staring at the bare walls. 

Who was he kidding? There was no way to clean up this mess.


	3. Family Ties

Emmie couldn’t help herself as she glanced down the lane towards the house where Oliver’s parents lived. While she remained on friendly terms with the older Woods, she hadn’t spoken to them much over the years. Not since the break-up. Though her mother always passed on a bit of news and greetings from them whenever Emmie came home to visit.

She then sighed and turned her gaze to her childhood home, bracing herself. It wasn’t as though she didn’t enjoy seeing her parents - she did - but coming home since the battle had its own struggles now that Alex had moved back in.

“Mum? Dad?” she called out as she stepped into the house.

“Emmie!” her mother said with a bright smile as she walked into the foyer from the kitchen and hugged her. “Feel like we dinnae see you nearly enough.”

“I was just here a couple weeks ago,” Emmie said, hugging her back.

“Likely that training schedule of yours keepin’ ye busy,” Calum said as he stepped into the foyer and Emmie hugged him. She glanced towards the corridor that led to her and Alex’s old rooms.

“How’s he doin’?” she asked, a worried look on her face. Mr. and Mrs. MacKenzie shared a look before returning their attention to their daughter.

“Bit better be ye ken how he is,” Mrs. MacKenzie said. She then mustered up a smile. “Food’s ready. Let’s eat and you can tell us all about first string…” 

~~~

For a time, it was like the war hadn’t happened. Emmie sat and smiled as her parents peppered her with questions about the team and training and such. Her father spoke at length about her coach and then gave her pointers. 

If it weren’t for the absence of her brother, she almost would have thought that nothing had changed. 

“Ye get the schedule yet?” her father asked.

“Ehm… yea… we’re in the openin’ match of the season. Against Puddlemere,” she said before shoving food into her mouth. She didn’t miss the look that passed between her parents. 

“So you’ll be playin’ Oliver,” her father said carefully. Emmie swallowed her food and sighed.

“Not the first time I’ve played against him,” she said, looking over at him.

“First time since the break-up,” her mother replied. “I still don’t understand wh-”

“I tried, Mum,” Emmie said a bit forcefully, directing her gaze towards her. “Truly. And it just… it didn’t work. Sometimes these things don’t.” She looked down to her plate, viciously stabbing at a piece of broccoli. Merlin, it had been nearly two years. Why was her mother still concerned about this?

“Well… I suppose I thought you two would work things out after…” Mrs. MacKenzie said weakly. Emmie looked up at her again.

“I thought we would, too. But we didn’t,” she said softly. “No use in dwellin’.”

“Right. You’ve got your first season of first string to think about,” Mr. MacKenzie said, smiling slightly. “I’ve got nothin’ but high hopes for you. You’re goin’ in with strong stats from reserves.” 

“It’s nice to be workin’ with a good chaser coach,” Emmie said, looking over at him.

“Fitzgibbons knows his stuff. As does Shackles,” Mr. MacKenzie said. “We’ll be there for the first match for sure.” Emmie smiled slightly, happy to be on lighter topics.

“You think Alex might come?” she asked, returning her attention to her food. There was a tense silence that caused her to look up. “You told him, didn’t you?”

“Well… we didn’t want to upset him, dear,” her mother started.

“He’s been doin’ better, but… he’s still not the same,” Mr. MacKenzie said. Emmie looked towards the direction of Alex’s room, frowning slightly. She had hoped he would be at the table for lunch so they could talk. Alex had always said he would be at her first game on first string. Though she could understand why he wouldn’t want to go now.

“You think he’ll see me? Before I leave?” she asked, looking back at her parents.

“Of course. He loves you, Em,” her mother said soothingly. Emmie turned her look to her father, knowing he would give her the blunt truth.

“He’ll see you… just… you know how he is,” he said. Emmie nodded and glanced back towards the door.

“How’s Kara and everyone?”

~~~

Emmie stood in front of her brother’s door, balancing a tray of food in one hand while holding her hand up to knock. She hesitated, unsure of whether this would be a good day or a bad day. Her mother said he was okay this morning but didn’t feel up to lunch with everyone. However, Emmie wanted to see him. Needed to see him.

She took a deep breath and knocked, screwing her eyes shut as she waited. 

“Who is it?” she heard.

“Emmie,” she called out, opening her eyes and waiting.

“Come in…”

She reached down and opened the door, stepping into the darkened room. There was a bit of light drifting in through the light curtains, but only one lamp was on. She walked in, setting the tray down on his old desk. She then turned and looked over, seeing her brother watching her from where he was propped up in his bed, his face expressionless. 

There were scars that ran down the right side of his face and neck, disappearing under his shirt, though she could see the same scars painting the back of his right hand. She knew they covered the entire side of his body, forever marring his once good looks. He had been in St. Mungo’s a good two weeks just because of the burns, and though they had healed them up fairly well, she knew it still caused him some pain. The healers had said that would take a bit longer to fix. 

He was supposed to be doing physical therapy, but she wasn’t sure if he had been keeping up with it.

“Alright, Alex?” she said lightly, staying put and slightly afraid to move closer. “Thought I’d bring you some food.” She motioned towards the tray. He nodded slightly and she quickly picked it up again and brought it over, settling it on his lap before moving to sit in a chair nearby. 

He grimaced slightly as he started to reach out with his right hand, and then switched to his left, the movement a bit awkward as he wasn’t left-handed. It pained Emmie to see her once strong brother like this. 

“Mum and Dad said you’re doing better,” she ventured. He glanced at her and then continued lifting the fork to his mouth. 

“Some days are better than others,” he said in between chewing. Emmie nodded and glanced around the room. It was much cleaner than she was used to so she figured her mother was coming in and cleaning when she could. 

“I wanted to come visit last week, but… been a bit busy,” she said, careful not to mention quidditch outright. She knew enough from the past few months to know it was a sore spot. And could easily set him off.

“Suspect so… with the season about to open,” Alex said. Emmie held her breath a bit, but when he didn’t lash out, she relaxed. 

“Yea,” she said, still unsure if she wanted to mention that she made first string. “Kara sends her love… and the others.” Alex looked over at her and sighed.

“You don’t have to act like you’re walkin’ a minefield, you know,” he said. Emmie blinked a few times and then noticed the slight smile on his face. Perhaps this _was_ a good day. She could see a hint of the old Alex in his eyes.

“Sorry… just… you know,” she said. Alex nodded. 

“Healers think I can move home soon,” he offered. Emmie’s eyes widened.

“You sure?” she asked. Alex laughed softly.

“Gotta figure out how to take care of myself at some point,” he replied. “I can get around more now. Still gotta use a cane though.” He grimaced as he glanced over at the offending item propped against his nightstand. 

“I was hoping you’d be at lunch,” she said. 

“You know Mum… wants me to rest as much as I can,” he said, rolling his eyes slightly. Emmie nodded.

“Remember her doing much the same with me,” she said. Alex chuckled.

“I remember when you broke your leg summer between first and second year. She wanted you on bedrest even though the healers had it fixed up in no time,” he replied.

“Well… nothin’ keeps us MacKenzies down for long,” Emmie said, leaning back in the chair. Alex didn’t respond, a dark shadow passing over his face for a moment before he smiled slightly.

“Suppose not,” he said softly. Emmie glanced around the room, grasping for anything to talk about that wouldn’t set him off. She still didn’t want to mention the Arrows. “How’s training?” Shite.

“Good,” she said. Alex glanced at her, sensing there was something she wasn’t saying. “I mean… keeps me busy and all… new plays and such…” He nodded.

“Even reserves are tough,” he said, returning his focus to his food. Emmie took a deep breath. Things had been going well so far, she wondered if he’d be okay hearing her news. She desperately wanted to share it.

“So… actually…” she started, pausing. Alex looked up at her. “I’ve been promoted. First string.” She waited, praying that he would take it well. He was still for a moment. 

“You’re playin’ first string now?” he asked softly. Emmie nodded. “About fuckin’ time.” She smiled in relief. 

“There were two open chaser spots… promoted me and then bought out Adrian Pucey,” she said. Alex frowned.

“Two? Who are you replacin’?” he asked.

“Ehm… Lyons and Martin,” she said. Alex nodded, though his countenance had turned a bit stiff.

“Suspect there are a fair bit of replacements this season,” he said, returning to eating, though his chewing had slowed. 

“Yea, a few here and there,” she said. “Harpies signed Katie Bell - she’s from your old house - and then… there’s Alicia Spinnet on the Wanderers and William Wright on the Wasps-” Emmie froze as she stared at her brother. She hadn’t meant to bring them up. Fucking hell, why had she mentioned the Wanderers and Wasps?

Alex closed his eyes briefly as he breathed in through his nose. He put his fork down and gripped the sides of the tray, his hands shaking. 

“So, I’ve been replaced, is it?” he asked softly, his eyes still closed. “Suppose I’m not surprised. They replaced Ryan before he was even buried.” 

“I’m so sorry - I shouldn’t have-”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have,” Alex shouted, his eyes now open as he glared at her. 

“Alex, please-”

“Get out!” he roared as he tossed the tray off the bed, causing her to jump. “GET OUT!”

Emmie flew up out of the chair and ran from the room, slamming the door shut behind her. She then leaned against it, listening to her brother continued to shout and rant inside, more things being tossed about.

“Emmie, come on,” her father said, appearing around the corner. She nodded and followed him as he led her out to the back porch. He had a bottle of firewhiskey and a couple of glasses on the table there. He poured one and handed it to her.

“I thought he was getting better,” she said before taking a gulp. Mr. MacKenzie shook his head. 

“We all ken how upset he was over Ryan,” he said. “Seems he took his death harder than we thought and… then… healers told him last week they weren’t sure if he’d be able to play again.” He looked over at Emmie before pulling her over into a hug. “He’ll come around… just needs time…”

“It’s my fault,” Emmie said softly. “It’s my fault he’s like this.”

“Hush now, don’t go blamin’ yourself for this,” he replied. 

“But it _is_ my fault,” she said, looking up at him, her eyes already filling with tears. “He, he jumped in front of that curse. It should have been me.” 

“He was doin’ what he always does - protectin' you,” Mr. MacKenzie said softly. “And while I’d rather neither of you get hurt, I… if he hadn’t… Emmie…” He looked away blinking. “I don’t like to think about it, but I’m just grateful that I didn’t have to bury either or both of you.” Emmie swallowed as she hugged her father back, thinking about the Woods just down the lane. 

They had buried Ryan Wood not yet two years ago. December 1996 to be exact. It was the moment that had changed Oliver. And it had changed her brother as well, though he had seemed to handle it better at the time. Until the battle at Hogwarts. She wondered how the Woods were holding up with everything. They had, in a sense, lost both of their sons because of the war.

“Just… sometimes I think about the war and… I get so angry,” she said softly. “Why?” She looked up at her father. He just sighed and shook his head.

“That’s a good question. I know I’d like the fuckin’ answer,” he said. “Because someone thought they were better than others? That muggles and anyone with muggle blood wasn’t good enough? Either way… doesn’t seem worth it.” 

“I just… I think about Alex and the Woods… and others and…” she started. She then closed her eyes, going back to that night at Hogwarts. She could clearly see the dead unseeing eyes of some Gryffindor seventh year. And then Cedric. Or at least how he now appeared in her mind after the battle. Lying on the ground, the same unseeing eyes forever open.

She hadn’t realized that she was sobbing until she felt her father’s arms around her.

“There, there, Emmie… it’s okay. It’s over,” he said softly.

“But it’s not,” she murmured. He looked down at her. “The war is over, but we’re still… the repercussions are still everywhere…”

“But we’re strong, us MacKenzies,” he said. “Got that Highlander warrior blood runnin’ through our veins… Gotta keep fightin’.” A faint smile came across his lips. Emmie nodded, wiping her cheeks.

“Suppose you’re right,” she said. He bent down and kissed her forehead. 

“We’ll be fine. You, me, your brother… everyone. Just need a bit of time,” he said. Emmie nodded again. She then finished her drink.

“I should get home,” she said softly. 

“Let me know about your match,” he said, hugging her again.

“I will.” 

~~~

Kara seemed to sense that it was a rough visit home as soon as Emmie walked in the door, immediately running to the kitchen to fetch a bottle of wine and glasses and bringing them to the living room as soon as Emmie had sat on the sofa.

“Bad day?” she asked while pouring. Emmie nodded, taking the glass that Kara had offered her. 

“Started out nice enough,” she said before taking a drink. “He let me in. We were even talking about quidditch… and then I had to go and mention the Wasps and Wanderers.” Kara frowned. “He threw his tray and shouted at me to get out.”

“Oh, Emmie,” Kara said, reaching out and rubbing her arm. Emmie shrugged. 

“I can’t blame him-”

“If you say it was your fault one more time, I will smack you, Emily Aileen MacKenzie,” Kara said. Emmie stared at her.

“He wouldn’t have been hurt if I hadn’t froze,” she said softly.

“First of all, we were in a battle. We all knew what we were getting into. That we might get hurt or… die. Your brother knew that. Hell, Em, he’s spent a good chunk of his life trying to protect you,” Kara said. “How could any of us had known what was going to happen? That, that… that that death eater would choose to shoot that curse at you at that time…. We still don’t know who it was exactly…” 

Emmie just stared at her glass.

“You’ve got to stop beating yourself up over this,” Kara continued.

“How can I when _he_ obviously blames me,” Emmie replied. Kara sighed and shook her head. 

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean to. He’s just angry. And upset. He can’t possibly blame you,” she said. Emmie took another drink and swallowed hard.

“When you think about it, it’s all kind of my fault. I was the reason Alex got hurt… and I wasn’t enough to help Oliver-”

“No. Stop. Shut it right now, Emmie,” Kara said forcefully. Emmie looked at her. “I won’t let you blame yourself for things that were out of your control. Not to mention, who walked out on who?” 

“He did,” Emmie said softly.

“You put your heart and soul into that relationship and kept trying long after any other sane person would. He pushed you away because of his own damn issues - not because you weren’t enough,” Kara said, frowning. “You gave him more chances than he deserved.” Emmie was silent. “And now is finally your time. You’ve been dreaming of playing for the Arrows since you were a little girl. I refuse to sit here and let you ruin your own goddamn moment over Oliver Fucking Wood and your fucking brother.”

Emmie stared at her and then sighed.

“Suppose you’re right,” she said finally, taking a drink.

“Alex will kick your ass later on if he finds out you sat here night in and night out throwing a pity party instead of focusing on going out there and kicking ass on the pitch,” Kara finished.

“You still don’t like quidditch,” Emmie said, laughing softly.

“And yet who is at every single one of your matches?” Kara asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You,” Emmie said, smiling. Kara nodded and stood up, walking back into the kitchen. “I swear, if you’re getting the tequila…”

“So what if I am?” Kara replied, opening up a cabinet. “You going to do anything about it? You don’t have practice tomorrow.”

“Suppose not,” Emmie said with a sigh, reaching for the latest Witch Weekly and flipping through it. She stopped when she came to the gossip section, once again seeing Oliver’s name.

She wasn’t sure why she tortured herself this way, but she kept reading, seeing that he was seen out with some witch that worked with the Bats.

“Fuck’s sake, put it down,” Kara said. Emmie looked up, seeing her best friend carrying a bottle of tequila, shot glasses and a plate of lemon slices. “We have had far too many nights drinking because of that wanker.” Emmie closed the magazine and put it down as Kara placed everything on the coffee table and poured the shots.

“What are we drinking to then?” Emmie asked.

“To the start of the next chapter in life,” Kara said decidedly, holding a glass out to Emmie. She took it and smiled. 

“I can drink to that.”

The two clinked their glasses together and then drank, Emmie grimacing slightly at the taste before quickly grabbing a lemon slice.

“Ah, not to bring the mood down, but don’t forget about Wednesday,” Kara said, fanning her face.

“I won’t,” Emmie replied. “Where is it again?”

“Where else? Witches’ Brew,” Kara replied, pouring two more shots. Emmie nodded, picking hers up and holding it out.

“To new beginnings. And the return of the Improved Emmie MacKenzie,” she said with a smile.

“That’s what I’m talking about. Hear, hear.”


	4. Shadows of the Past

Oliver breathed heavily as he landed on the pitch and jogged towards the coach, trailing behind the rest of the team. Weathers glanced at him before settling his gaze on the chasers and going through pointers on their formations. He then moved on to the beaters and the seeker Benjy Williams. He then turned his attention to Oliver, sighing before he spoke.

“Better, Wood. But I still need to see more improvement. I want you in early tomorrow for extra conditioning,” Weathers said gruffly. Oliver nodded, keeping his face straight. “Alright, dismissed.” 

The team started moving towards the locker room as Weathers walked over to his coaching staff. Oliver started rolling his shoulders, trying to loosen up the soreness in his back. While he felt like he had done better, he had still taken more bludger hits than he liked. He hoped it was enough for management. There were only a few weeks left before the season opener and that wasn’t much time to make a significant amount of improvement, though he was hoping to at least have a good start. 

“You coming this weekend, Wood?” Carpenter asked, catching up to him. Oliver slowed down slightly, letting the rest of the team pass around them.

“What’s this weekend?” he asked, glancing over at the chaser, trying to remember if he had heard him mention something earlier. He had been rather focused on playing.

“What’s this weekend? Have you been listening? Harker’s having a party. Fairly sure all the League is going to be there,” Carpenter said with a laugh. “Just a little something to help get the season off to a good start and all.”

“Oh… suppose I’ll be there then,” he said, thinking it over. While he was supposed to be avoiding situations that might land him in the gossip columns, surely one party wouldn’t hurt. And he had been rather good at staying under the radar the last week or so. At least he thought so. Certainly hadn’t done anything worth writing about in his mind.

“Perhaps that fit little chaser on the Arrows will be there,” Carpenter said with a wink. Oliver frowned. Emmie still wasn’t one for big parties with people she didn’t know well. But there was a good chance that she would be there. It was the first party of the season. Her team would likely drag her out to it, knowing them.

Was he ready to see her?

“Maybe,” he said finally. Carpenter laughed.

“Lighten up, Wood. Should be fun,” Carpenter said, jogging ahead of him.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Wilda asked, stepping up to Oliver’s side, a frown already on her face. “You’re supposed to be keeping things in check and you’re running out of chances.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, scowling at her. He was an adult. Surely, he could conduct himself well enough at one party. Wilda sighed.

“I’m serious, Wood. You should be playing it safe,” she continued. “And playing it safe is not giving the press even more to write about. Which is sure to happen if you go to a party where you’ll most definitely run into your ex-girlfriend.”

“Just… bugger off, Griffiths,” he said, picking up his speed. What did she know about him and Emmie anyway?

“I’m trying to help you,” she said.

“Just stop. I already have one mum and that’s enough,” he shot over his shoulder, though he couldn’t help but think that it had been a long time since he had replied to one of her owls. Wilda only shook her head.

“Fine, get kicked off the team,” she muttered.

~~~

Oliver sighed as he stood in the shop, looking at the large display of bottles. He had meant to do some actual grocery shopping, but had gotten distracted by the display of alcohol, still a bit on edge about the possibility he’d see Emmie at the party on the weekend. Not that he needed it – he already had a couple bottles at home as it was.

Perhaps Wilda was right and he shouldn’t go to the party this weekend. Just the thought of seeing Emmie again was pushing him to drink. 

What would he even say to her? What did you say to someone you basically walked out on? “I’m sorry,” didn’t seem to be enough. Would she even speak to him? Probably not. And he didn’t blame her. He wouldn’t speak to himself if the roles were reversed.

“Oliver?” 

Oliver looked over, surprised to see his old roommate and friend Percy Weasley standing there, his eyes slightly wide behind his horn-rimmed glasses. He hadn’t really seen or talked to Percy since the battle – even then it had only been in passing - but he appeared about the same. Work robes lightly worn, but still perfectly pressed. His red curly hair going in crazy directions - it was the one thing Percy never seemed to get completely under control.

“Perce,” he said finally, walking towards him, his hand out. Percy shook it, an odd look on his face over the slightly impersonal action. While Percy wasn’t one for hugs, this still seemed a bit too distanced for the former best friends. “How have you been?”

“Good. Staying busy at the ministry. You?” he asked.

“Same with the League,” Oliver said, shifting on his feet and glancing around. Christ, this was uncomfortable.

“Are you… busy right now? Would you like to grab a drink with me and maybe catch up?” Percy asked, pointing over his shoulder towards the front of the shop. “There’s a place nearby.” 

Oliver wasn’t sure he wanted to - Percy was yet one more person that he pushed away when his brother died. It was sure to be awkward if this little exchange was anything to go by. But one look on Percy’s hopeful face and Oliver found that he couldn’t say no.

“Ehm… sure…”

~~~

Oliver glanced around the small pub, hoping that there weren’t any reporters around. While he usually brushed off whatever rubbish they wrote about him, he didn’t want them to say anything about Percy. While they might be estranged, he still didn’t want anything bad to happen to his once best friend. Something that might get him in trouble at the Ministry. 

“Been following your progress. Seems you’re set to start again this year,” Percy said, smiling slightly after they had ordered their drinks.

“Ehm, yea. Getting hard into training right now,” Oliver replied, relieved when said drinks arrived and he took a large gulp. Percy continued to study him in that quiet way of his. Oliver was sure that he could see just about everything about him. Percy had always picked up on things rather quickly. 

“Right,” Percy said.

“How’s the Ministry?” Oliver asked, changing the topic to Percy. 

“Chaotic,” Percy admitted with a sigh. “Shacklebolt does well enough as minister, but… the death eaters. They wrecked a bit of havoc while in control. A lot of messes to clean up unfortunately… and then there’s the restoration of Hogwarts that we’re helping to oversee…”

Oliver nodded, looking down at his glass as memories of that night flitted through his mind. Fighting. Taking out death eaters. Trying to protect those around him. 

Emmie. 

He shifted in his chair and took another drink. 

“They’ve moved me to the department of magical transportation,” Percy continued. “Assistant head. Shouldn’t be too long before I’m in charge of the whole thing. Crawely wants to retire in a few years.”

“Good to hear,” Oliver said, glancing over at him and genuinely happy. Percy was nothing if not ambitious, and Oliver was happy to see that his hard work was paying off. Percy pursed his lips together a moment before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t reached out in a while. I meant to, just with things… I’ve been following you in the papers and all,” he said. “I’m worried about you, Oliver.” Oliver laughed shortly.

“If you’ve been following the papers, then you should know that I’ve been fine. Party boy of the League and all,” he said, lifting his glass. “Nothing like having a good time.”

“That’s precisely why I am worried about you. You haven’t been the same since Ry-”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Oliver said brusquely, cutting Percy off as he glared at him.

“I think talking about it would help,” Percy pushed. 

“As always, you don’t know shite, Percy,” Oliver said, starting to stand.

“Please don’t leave. I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again,” Percy said quickly. The two stared at each other a moment before Oliver sat back down. He did still have his pint to finish, after all. “Really… I am sorry. About that and not keeping up with you.”

“Not like I was reaching out to you,” Oliver admitted, feeling the usual guilt stirring up in him. He hadn’t. In fact, he had gone out of his way to avoid all of his old friends, which proved hard on some days – Alicia and Angelina were all playing professional quidditch nowadays. And now Katie was starting with the Harpies. Avoiding Emmie and been easier while she was in reserves. Now he’d have to see and interact with all of them more than he cared to. 

“You could have, you know,” Percy said softly. “Even if I had been busy, I would have taken time for you.” Oliver just stared at him, not really believing him even though he knew Percy was telling the truth. “We were best friends… still could be…”

“A lot’s changed since then,” Oliver said gruffly.

“I know,” Percy said. “Of anyone, I think I know what it’s like…” Oliver sat up slightly, the guilt coming on even stronger. Of course. Fred had died in the battle. Percy and George knew all too well what he had gone through. But still something stopped him from fully opening up. 

Oliver looked down at his glass, slowly turning it in his calloused hands. Percy had tried reaching out to him back then. Long after the others had given up. Even after he had ended things with Emmie. And still Oliver pushed him away. And now, in the midst of his own pain, Percy was reaching out again. Oliver wasn’t sure if he was ready to open up to anyone just yet. This meeting was awkward enough without dredging up the past. Especially a past that he wasn’t keen on talking about.

“How’s your mum and dad? The rest of your family?” Oliver finally asked.

“Well as they can be. Mum is still… she took Fred’s death hard, but she’s doing the best she can. Dad’s back at work at the Ministry. And Ginny’s preparing to go back to Hogwarts her final year… Ehm… Charlie’s back in Romania and Bill and Fleur have settled at Shell Cottage,” Percy said. “She’s pregnant actually.”

“Congratulations. About time someone made you an uncle,” Oliver said. Percy smiled slightly, nodding.

“Ron’s decided to be an auror with Harry. I run into them often enough at the Ministry. And George, well… He has good days and bad days,” Percy said, tiptoeing around being too open about it. “Hermione’s at the Ministry as well. She and Ron are still together.”

“Good to hear,” Oliver replied.

“And well… I’ve started seeing someone. Her name is Audrey. She was in Ravenclaw. Year behind us,” Percy continued.

“That’s grand. What’s she like?” Oliver asked, finding Percy’s love life to be an easier topic to settle on even though his own was in the gutter. Percy’s smile brightened as he started talking about the muggleborn witch that he had met shortly after going back to the Ministry after the war. She seemed to be every bit the studious, serious type that Percy was. Which was good. And it didn’t surprise Oliver in the least that he had taken up with another Ravenclaw. Oliver, himself, had been surprised that Percy didn’t end up in that house.

After about an hour, they were finishing up their second drinks and paying their tab. They stood slightly awkwardly outside the pub, staring at each other.

“It was good running into you,” Oliver offered, though even he didn’t quite believe his own words in their half-hearted tone. Percy smiled and nodded crisply. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Wood,” Percy said. 

“Same,” Oliver said. With another nod, he then turned and started walking through the streets towards his flat, not looking back though he was sure that Percy was watching him.

It wasn’t until he walked into the darkened flat that he let out the breath he had been holding. He rubbed his face and then made his way to the fridge, pulling out another beer, and then walked to sit on the sofa as he opened it. 

He took a large drink and then closed his eyes as he swirled it around in his mouth and then swallowed.

Meeting Percy had brought up a few too many painful memories than he cared to think about. But the damage was done. He’d probably have the nightmares again that night. He supposed he could stay up all night like he usually did when he had them, but there was still the matter that he’d have to be in early tomorrow morning for training. And he still wanted to attempt to work on his form. Regardless of the fact that his personal life was in shambles, he didn’t want to lose his job. Playing quidditch was the only thing that helped him keep things mostly together. Even if he wasn’t currently playing as well as he did in the past. 

Sighing, Oliver opened his eyes and took another drink, this one a bit smaller. He still hadn’t eaten, after all. He leaned back on the sofa, his eyes roaming around the flat. While he had started making attempts at keeping it cleaner, there was still a bit of clutter around. He just wasn’t that great at cleaning. Never had been. His mother had yelled at him about it nearly every day when he was growing up. Then Percy when he was at Hogwarts.

Emmie had always stepped in before to help keep the place looking spic and span after that. She had done so much to try and help him over the years. 

Oliver closed his eyes again, the painful memories forcing their way into his mind no matter how hard he tried not to think about them. 

~~~

_“Oliver? OLIVER!”_

_He opened his eyes and looked up, seeing Emmie standing there, her hands on her hips as she stared down at him, concern filling her green eyes. He wasn’t sure what time it was or even the day, but he had a feeling that she was about to tell him._

_“It’s passed 12!” she shouted. “Even if it is Saturday, you need to get up.”_

_“So… I don’t have practice,” he mumbled, turning over in the bed so that his back was to her. He could hear her sigh behind him._

_“You’re supposed to go back on Monday,” she said, though her voice was softer._

_“Then I’ll get back on schedule Monday,” he retorted. He felt the bed shift and then her arm snaking around his waist over the duvet as she settled next to him._

_“I know this isn’t easy, but… you’ve got to try. It’s what Ryan would have wanted,” she said softly._

_“How would you know what Ryan wanted? He wasn’t your brother. Yours is still running around playing quidditch,” he said roughly. There was silence, but she didn’t move. Kept her arm firmly around him._

_“I know,” she said. “I know it’s not fair.”_

_“Damn right, it’s not fair,” he said, feeling the tears prick at his eyes. Part of him knew he was being too harsh on her. It wasn’t Emmie’s fault that Ryan had died. And she was just trying to help. Much like he had tried (and mostly failed) to do when Cedric had died. So far, she was much better than he had been for her. But he supposed that was just her nature. Always putting others before herself._

_Emmie’s arm tightened around him._

_“Just… I wish you’d open up to me,” she whispered. Oliver screwed his eyes shut. He knew she meant well, but he didn’t want to let her in. Anyone, at that. He just wanted to be left alone. It was easier that way._

_He felt her lips on the back of his head and for a moment, his chest tightened painfully. He knew he was pushing her away. And that he shouldn’t. Beside quidditch, Emmie was the one thing going right in his world. If he pushed her away, he’d have no one._

_But maybe that was better. To be alone. Then he wouldn’t be forced to constantly see her worried looks. Or the looks of pity._

_“I just want to be alone,” he said. She was silent before the bed shifted again._

_“Okay,” she said. “You can owl me later if you… if you want me to come back round.”_

_He then listened to her footsteps as she left the room and then shut the door behind her. Almost as soon as she had gone, he regretted it, finding he needed her presence. But now that he was alone, he let the tears fall._

_He didn’t want her to see him cry._

~~~

Oliver sighed and then took another drink, looking around the empty flat. He didn’t want to think about the past. Or about his brother. He wanted to just forget that it all had happened. Numbing the pain was better than dealing with it, he had found. 

He put the beer down and stood, going for the stronger stuff. Once he was back seated on the sofa, a large pouring of firewhisky in his glass, he took another large drink, letting the liquid burn down his throat. He decided then that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to see Percy again. Not if it brought on all these memories and thoughts and feelings. 

Not if it made him think of Emmie. He reached for the paper, flipping through it. He stopped on another article about Emmie and Pucey on the Arrows. Seemed she was already showing a lot of promise in the preseason training. Of course, she would. He had known even back at Hogwarts that she was meant to play professional quidditch. 

He then turned the page, not wanting to dwell on it too long. He stopped when he saw his name in print, leaning over to read yet another made up account of him being on a date with yet another witch. He hadn’t even been out that night. 

He glanced at the clock and then at the whiskey, frowning. It wasn’t that late. He could still catch Luke and the others at the pub. If the gossips were going to make him out to be the League’s biggest player, then he could at least give them to write about. Something true.

He sat down the glass and walked to his room, quickly changing into something a bit nicer before starting towards the door. At least this way, he wouldn’t have to spend the night alone with his memories and past.


	5. Remembering

Emmie walked alongside Kara, the two of them unusually silent as they made their way through Diagon Alley towards their destination. Emmie had had a good day at training, but as soon as she walked into the flat afterwards, her mood instantly dropped as she quickly ate and then changed. She very nearly put on a modest black dress before Kara walked in and stopped her, walking straight to her wardrobe and pulling out a brighter, light green dress, the look on her face clearly saying not to argue with her. 

Soon they were walking into the small pub that they had come to frequent with their friends, finding the familiar faces in a small back room that the owner had allowed them to use for the night. They were the last to arrive, both greeting the various Hufflepuffs gathered. Emmie walked over and hugged Melanie then moved to sit next to Fincher, Parks and Whitshire. Even Charles and Nickles were there along with a few others who had been in their year at school. Emmie sipped at the firewhiskey that Fincher had poured her - there were several bottles and pitchers of beer around the table - as she waited. 

Kara then stood and walked to the front of the room, standing next to a portrait on an easel as the soft murmurs died out. She looked around the room and then at the portrait a moment then back at the others.

“First of all, I wanted to thank you all for coming. I know that Toni would be very happy to see everyone here, though knowing her she’d throw a fit over all the sad faces,” she said. There was a smattering of chuckles as Kara took a deep breath. “A year ago today, we lost one of our best friends and one of the brightest people that I’ve personally ever known. Yes, she could be rather annoying at times, and such a gossip.” She paused as she rolled her eyes slightly. “But she has been sorely missed all the same.” She then lifted her glass, the rest of the group following suit. “This is for Toni… and everyone that we’ve lost because of the war.”

“To Toni…”

They then took a drink as Kara moved to her seat, wiping softly at her cheeks in the process. Emmie took the chance to study the photograph, seeing her friend laughing and smiling at them, the wind blowing through her red hair. She was muggleborn and had gone into hiding with her family at the beginning of the summer, staying with relatives in another part of the country. They had all thought they were safe, but then… she ran into a group of snatchers. Rather than go quietly, she had put up a fight, attempting to protect her family, and had been killed in the process.

It was a similar story that was being told all over the country during the war. They had lost many to the snatchers.

Emmie felt a tear slip down her cheek as she thought about all the late nights at school they had stayed up and talked about the boys they fancied or the professors they loathed. Making plans for the future. How that had continued after they all graduated with Melanie and Toni often staying over at Emmie and Kara’s. Toni had finally gotten a writing job at Witch Weekly just before she had to go into hiding. It was yet another unfair casualty in this damn war. 

“Oh heavens, I thought I would die that night,” Melanie said loudly with a laugh. Emmie looked across the table at her old roommate. “You should have seen the dress she wanted to put Emmie in.” 

“Oh god, you’re not talking about that Gryffindor Hallowe’en party, are you?” Kara asked with a laugh. “I thought she was about to force poor Emmie into it. The look on your face when she pulled it out…” 

“Over my dead body,” Emmie retorted, a slight smile on her lips. 

“It very well nearly was over your dead body,” Melanie said, though her smile quickly faded as she looked back at the portrait. “God, it doesn’t seem like it’s been a year, does it?”

“Three years since Cedric,” Emmie said, looking down at her glass. Fincher reached over and massaged her shoulder, knowing her thoughts were likely also turning to Ryan Wood as well. He had been like a big brother to her. 

“Lost too many good ones if you ask me,” Fincher said gruffly.

“Yea, but… I don’t think they’d want us to sit here and mope about it,” Kara said, looking around the room. “Yea, we lost a lot of good people in this war. But we survived. And it’s over. We owe it to them to keep moving on.” She locked eyes with Emmie. “All of us.” Emmie took another sip of her drink as she looked down at the table. 

“Hear, hear,” Fincher said. “For starters, Mac here is going to kill it this season.” Emmie felt her cheeks heat up as she glanced over at her old captain.

“That’s right. How’s it feel to be first string?” Whitshire asked from her other side. 

“Good,” she said. “Finally…”

“Surprised it took so long,” Parks said.

“I’ll admit, it’s not the same without your brother on the Wanderers, though Spinnet’s definitely stepped up. How’s he doing?” Whitshire asked. Emmie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She should have known that he’d come up.

“He’s… doing the best he can,” she said, avoiding Kara’s look. “They aren’t sure if or when he’ll be back…” 

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group before Kara cleared her throat and launched into another funny story about Toni from school. Emmie was grateful for the diversion. She didn’t really want to talk about her brother or the battle any more than that. 

Thankfully, several conversations broke out among the group, and none of them had anything to do with the battle or her brother. She settled into laughing and chatting with the other former members of the quidditch team as they talked about practice and some of their fonder memories from school about Cedric and Toni. She even contributed a few of her own, finding it easier to laugh and smile than it had been earlier. 

“Say, you going to that party, Mac?” Parks asked some time later, looking at her. Emmie furrowed her brow slightly. She hadn’t heard of any party.

“Harker on the Pride. He’s hosting one this weekend at his place. All the League is going,” Whitshire added. “You have to go. It’s the first of the season and you need to celebrate making first string.” 

“I’m not sure,” Emmie said, her thoughts turning to Oliver. If it were a League party, surely he would be there and she wasn’t sure that she was ready to run into him. She could feel Kara staring at her from across the table.

“All of the Arrows are going,” Fincher said. “Could be a good time to get to know the team better.” 

“Yea, but I’m still not one for parties,” Emmie said, shifting in her chair.

“That’s bollocks and you know it,” Parks said, laughing. “You enjoyed more than a few in Hufflepuff. And I saw you at a few over the years in the League.” Emmie shifted in her chair again, meeting Kara’s eyes.

“You, dear Emmie, are going,” Kara said with a smirk.

“Why?” Emmie asked, trying not to whine.

“Because I know you have a killer outfit in your closet that needs to come out and play,” Kara said lightly. “And you’re taking me as your plus one. Need to check out this team of yours.” Emmie rolled her eyes.

“I already have Fincher looking out for me,” she said, hearing the keeper chuckle from next to her. 

“You’re coming, Mac,” he said. “And that’s it.”

“Don’t I get a choice?” she asked, glaring at him.

“Nope,” he said. “I’m with Kara on this. You need to let loose a bit with the team. It’s the best way to bond.”

“What? Getting pissed?” Emmie scoffed.

“Exactly,” Kara said from across the table. Emmie rolled her eyes again.

“Fine. Guess I’m going,” she said, relenting. Between the two of them, there was no way she’d win in this fight anyway. Kara just grinned at her. 

“And I’m coming too,” Melanie sang. 

“Fine. You too,” Emmie said. 

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Melanie said. “About time I got to meet some of these first-string blokes. I’m tired of dating reserves players.” 

“You would say that,” Emmie said, fixing a frown at her friend. Melanie just shrugged and grinned. 

“It’ll be fine,” Fincher said from next to her. 

“Hope you’re right…”

~~~

_Emmie looked around the courtyard, debris everywhere as curses and hexes flew through the air. She nearly didn’t duck out of the way of one as it flew over her head and took out a wall just behind her. She whipped her head over, trying to find where it came from, but she couldn’t see the caster. The only sound in her head was her heavy breathing and the pounding of her heart._

_“EMMIE!”_

_She turned around and jumped to the side, rolling across the ground as another hex hit the spot where she had just been standing as everything seemed to speed up. She jumped up to her feet and took off running, not sure where she was going. She wasn’t even sure who had been yelling at her. Putting up shield after shield, she searched for familiar faces. Friends. Someone she knew._

_Suddenly, she tripped and was on the ground again, her palms stinging as they scraped against the ground. Looking up, she met the dead eyes of a blonde student from Gryffindor. She vaguely remembered who it was, but was frozen in place all the same, images of line after line of bodies filling the Great Hall now dancing before her eyes. She started struggling to breathe as she found she couldn’t look away._

_“Get up, Mac!”_

_Strong arms wrapped around her and she felt herself being lifted. She looked up, seeing Fincher trying to drag her to her feet. Once she was up, he was off, running somewhere. She attempted to follow, ducking here and there, though she lost him in the chaos._

_Sliding to a stop, she looked around, seeing people fall. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart, the blood rushing through her ears. The ground was littered with bodies. She couldn’t breathe, struggling to get air into her lungs._

_Where was everyone?_

_“EMMIE, NO!”_

_She whipped around, seeing the jet of light coming towards her. She tried to move her feet, lift her wand, but found that she couldn’t. All she could do was stare at the stream of light as it came at her._

_Suddenly, a large body came from the right, shoving her out of the way. She collided hard with the ground, grimacing in pain from both hitting the ground and the heavy weight now upon her. Quickly, she pushed herself up as the body rolled off her, looking over and seeing her brother screaming in agony._

_“ALEX!” she shrieked, crawling her way towards him. “NOO!!!”_

~~~

Emmie shot up in bed, the shriek still on her lips as she pushed her hair back from her face and looked around the darkened room. The memorial service had ended on a lighter note than it started, and Emmie thought perhaps tonight she wouldn’t have the nightmares.

But it seemed she had been wrong. 

“Emmie!” Kara shouted as she ran into the room. Emmie looked over at her, still gasping for air.

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t…” she said over and over, still struggling to breathe. Kara ran over to her, sitting on the bed and taking the sobbing Emmie into her arms. 

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s over. You’re safe,” she murmured softly.

“He, he, he…” Emmie gasped, tears streaming down her face. 

“I know,” Kara said, swallowing as she rubbed Emmie’s back and let her cry. While they had started subsiding slightly, she still had nightmares a few times a week. Sometimes of the battle. Sometimes about Cedric. But always with dead bodies and curses flying. And always they ended with her shrieking in her sleep, a wail of deep pain. While Kara had her own things to sort through, the battle seemed to have affected Emmie on a much deeper level. Kara and her twin Karl had gotten out unscathed, thankfully. Emmie and Alex had not. 

Emmie started shaking as she held onto her friend, still gasping for air. The images still emblazoned in her mind. She still didn’t know the name of the Gryffindor student she had come face-to-face with on the ground. But she couldn’t stop seeing her face in her sleep.

“It’s okay, Emmie. It’s okay,” Kara said, holding onto her for a few more minutes. Emmie finally pushed back from her slightly, her breathing now more regulated. She wiped her cheeks.

“I woke you up again. I’m so sorry,” she said, sniffling.

“Emmie, it’s okay. I understand,” Kara said softly.

“No, it’s not. You need to sleep,” Emmie said. “I’m fine now.” 

“No, you’re not. And we’re going to talk about it,” Kara said firmly. “We both know that you can’t sleep until you talk about it.” Emmie swallowed and nodded. “Was it Alex again?”

“Yea… I never get there in time,” she whispered. “I don’t even move.” Kara frowned.

“You know it’s not your fault,” she started. Emmie sighed and leaned back against her pillows, crossing her arms. 

“When will they stop?” she asked quietly, not looking at her. “How long do I have to deal with this?”

“I don’t know. I wish I could tell you,” Kara replied. 

“Do you still get them?” Emmie asked.

“Yea… sometimes,” Kara replied. Emmie looked over at her. “It could take a while… and that’s okay. Everyone moves at their own pace...” 

“Doesn’t feel okay,” Emmie said, wiping her cheeks again. “None of it feels okay. I’m here, playing quidditch while Alex is… and Toni… Cedric... that Gryffindor…” 

“And they would likely slap you silly to see you like this, Em,” Kara said. “I know for sure that Toni would. She wouldn’t want any of us to stop living because of her.” Emmie frowned. “You know I’m right.” 

“Still… doesn’t make it any easier,” she replied. “That we get to go on and live our lives while they don’t.” 

“I know. It’s all incredibly unfair. But… it’s how it is,” Kara said. “You can’t give up.” 

“I’m not giving up… I just… I don’t know how to do it,” Emmie replied.

“One day at a time,” Kara said softly. “It’s the only way any of us can. And you know this. We’ve talked about it before.” Emmie nodded. “You want some tea?” 

“Yea,” Emmie said. Kara stood and Emmie got out of bed, following her into the living room. Kara walked to the kitchen, waving her wand and getting the tea started. She then walked back into the living room, handing a mug to Emmie as she sat next to her on the sofa. 

“Still can’t believe that dress she wanted me to wear,” Emmie finally said, a faint smile on her lips. Kara laughed softly.

“Even I thought it a bit much,” she said, shaking her head. 

“You know… she’d probably be begging to go to that party with us,” Emmie said. 

“She would. And hitting on all the single quidditch blokes once she got there,” Kara said. Emmie snorted softly before taking a sip of her tea.

“She’d probably walk out with a new boyfriend,” she said.

“Or two, knowing Toni,” Kara said. Emmie nodded. 

“She really would slap me,” she said. “She never wanted anyone to make a fuss about her…”

“Not sure she’d want us to have the memorial tonight, but… it felt right,” Kara said. Emmie nodded.

“It did,” she said. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I could almost hear her in my head… shouting at me for being so morose. And that I should be excited about making first string. Even if she could barely stand quidditch.”

“You know that she’d be there,” Kara said, patting her leg. “She would be there for everything.”

“I know,” Emmie replied. “We’d still have our weekly girl nights here… drinking and talking about everything…”

“Toni giving us the lowdown on all the fresh gossip from Witch Weekly,” Kara continued. 

“You griping about the bureaucrats at the Ministry,” Emmie said. Kara chuckled.

“Melanie going on about the latest in fashion,” she said with a sigh. “It doesn’t feel quite the same without Toni…”

“But you’re right… we have to keep going forward. For her. For all of them,” Emmie said. Kara smiled and held her mug out.

“And that’s just what we’ll do,” she said. Emmie smiled and clinked her mug against her best friend’s. She felt better, but there was still a slight pain in her chest. She knew it was what Toni would want. All of them. But sometimes it still felt too hard.

“Yea… that’s what we’ll do…”


	6. To Make Merry

Emmie glanced around the large, slightly ostentatious flat, taking in the various players and their dates and friends. It was astonishing how they all fit in despite the size. She had yet to see Oliver and counted that as a blessing. Sipping her drink, she turned back to pay attention to Fincher and whatever story he was currently telling the rest of the team gathered around them. Kara was at her side, though Melanie had already wandered off, likely flirting with someone. 

Perhaps this wouldn’t be a disaster. Perhaps she wouldn’t lose it the moment she saw her ex-boyfriend for the first time in three months. Perhaps she would actually enjoy herself. She smiled slightly, settling on the last thought. There was no reason for her not to have fun tonight. She wasn’t the one who broke off the three-year relationship.

“Ah, Pucey! You made it!” Beauchamp shouted. “And you brought Flint.” Emmie whipped her head over, her eyebrows rising as she saw Adrian walking up, Marcus Flint just behind him. He looked different from the boy she knew in school - a bit taller and filled out. His dark hair was short and his dark eyes flinted around the group as though he was nervous, which was something completely new. She couldn’t help but notice that sometime in the passing years, he had managed to fix his teeth and had lost the slightly trollish look that had always been intimidating before.

This Marcus Flint didn’t seem nearly that intimidating, though he still loomed over her. He also looked more handsome, though that was not something she was about to admit out loud to anyone, even Kara. A flush came over her cheeks as she remembered some of their more heated run-ins at school. She couldn’t help as she pulled her cup closer to her, almost as though she expected him to slip something into it. Even if it had been Warrington.

Quickly, Emmie thought over everything she knew about him now. He was on the Falcons, playing chaser. She had even played a few matches against him when he was on reserves before getting promoted. But outside that, their paths had barely crossed in the years since Hogwarts. Even their seventh year, he had actively avoided her.

Flint glanced at her and then looked at the other Arrows.

“Good to see you,” he directed towards Beauchamp. Emmie met Kara’s eyes, who seemed just as surprised to see him standing there. She apparently remembered the arrogant Slytherin all too well, though he seemed quieter than before. His usual sneer gone.

“You need drinks,” Beauchamp said before walking off. Fincher frowned slightly as he looked at Flint.

“Right… you all remember Flint,” Pucey said, motioning towards him.

“Yea,” Fincher retorted, still frowning. Adrian looked slightly surprised at the frosty reaction.

“Okay…” Adrian said. “And you remember Fincher and MacKenzie… Watkins...” Flint nodded, though he seemed as though he were avoiding looking at Emmie and took a half-step away from her. Her eyes went wide at the movement. While her own memories of Flint were still on the negative side, she never thought that _he_ might be afraid of _her_.

“Just, promise to give me a heads up if you plan to jinx me again, MacKenzie,” he said, a half-smile on his face as he finally looked over at her fully. Emmie’s mouth dropped open as Fincher froze and Kara snorted. Was this actually Flint? Making a joke?

Was she now standing in some alternate universe?

“Wait, is this the bloke you mentioned before?” Taylor asked, smiling. “The one you sent to the hospital wing?”

“For a couple days,” Flint said as Emmie still hadn’t regained the ability to speak. “Granted I deserved it. She got me fairly good another time before that, though my mate was able to reverse it without Pomfrey’s help.”

“It was a ridiculous feud… Made my life a living hell during sixth year,” Adrian said with a sigh. “What with all the times I told him to drop it…”

“Your life? He spiked her punch with a love potion and she snogged him in front of the whole school!” Fincher nearly shouted, still not entertained. “And then-”

“It was Warrington, remember?” Emmie interrupted, not really wanting to get into all that again. It had been years ago, and she had moved on for the most part, even if she was still a bit wary of Flint. Fincher looked over at her, confused by her reaction. She suspected that he was hoping she’d be just as willing to go after Flint again. 

“But-”

“No need to hash that out again,” Emmie said, cutting him off again, as she glanced over at Flint, who was now looking at his shoes. So far, he hadn’t done or said anything to warrant an attack, so she hoped to keep the peace a bit longer.

“Right. It’s been what? Six years or so?” Adrian added. Fincher just frowned at him. Emmie looked over at Flint, really studying him as the others began talking. He seemed different. Outside of the obvious physical changes, and all. There was something softer about his eyes, though she wasn’t sure what. And he didn’t seem to glare or sneer as he did back then. Old Flint would have surely made a suggestive comment by now, though could be because she was currently surrounded by large blokes who would no doubt step in should something go south. She couldn’t help but wonder what he had been up to over the years. The fact that he was at the party and still playing quidditch told her that he had likely not joined the death eaters during the war, though she wasn’t sure if he had stayed and fought or if he had gone into hiding like others from Slytherin who hadn’t wanted to take a side.

She hadn’t realized that she had been inching towards him until he suddenly looked over at her and jumped slightly.

“Alright, MacKenzie?” he asked. Emmie just blinked and started blushing slightly.

“Yea, was about to ask you the same,” she said, smiling slightly and hoping to put him at ease. He nodded.

“Just… been training and such. Congrats on making first string. Not sure why it took so long,” he said. Emmie shrugged.

“No open spots,” she replied. 

“Ah… right,” he said, nodding. He glanced around, likely trying to come up with some sort of conversation topic that didn’t reference the recent war, much like herself. While she was curious about what he had done all this time, she thought a quidditch party probably wasn’t the best place to bring that up.

Blimey… just what did they have to talk about?

~~~

Oliver stopped as he walked into the flat and looked around, trying to find Luke and the others. It had been going on for about an hour or two by that point, though Oliver never showed up early or on time to these things. 

“There you are!” Luke said loudly. Oliver looked over, watching as he and a couple of his friends walked over to him, throwing his arm around Oliver’s shoulders. “This man needs a drink!”

“I’m good,” Oliver said, thinking of Wilda’s warning, though Luke just laughed loudly. Oliver had already had a few at his flat to fortify himself for potentially running into Emmie.

“You always need a drink, mate,” he replied. They stopped at a large bar and Luke quickly set about to pouring something for him as Oliver looked around the party again. He knew he was looking for her, though he tried to tell himself that he was just checking to see who had made it out. 

His eyes then stopped moving as someone stepped out of the way and he finally found her. Her strawberry blonde hair was down in waves - it seemed longer than he remembered - and she was dressed in some trendy outfit. She looked good. Happy. Oliver felt his feet already starting to move across the room towards her, naturally drawn to her as she smiled and laughed at something someone said from next to her. Whatever it was, she seemed keen on it, her eyes twinkling slightly.

He then stopped as he noticed who she was standing with. She was looking up at Marcus Flint while Adrian Pucey stood just to the other side, apparently also involved in the conversation. Oliver frowned. Since when did Emmie spend any time with them? She had actively avoided Flint seventh year, though he had also gone out of his way to stay from her. As far as Oliver knew, the two hadn’t really spoken to each other since sixth year and she hated him with an undying passion. Just why was she talking and laughing with him now?

The old jealousy started churning through him, though he tried to shove it down. He had no right to be jealous. 

“Seems she doesn’t wait, does she?” Luke said, stepping up to his side and holding out a glass. Oliver tore his eyes away from the scene and grabbed the glass, taking a drink.

“What do you mean? We broke up a couple years ago,” Oliver said roughly.

“Yea, but she just started on first string and already chatting up her teammate and Flint. What is it about Badgers and Snakes?” Luke replied. Oliver frowned at him. What did Luke know or care? He was older and only knew of Emmie because of her brother. And well, because they had been dating when Oliver started first string. He had never spent that much time around her. He looked back over at the group, noticing that she was standing with nearly her whole team. 

“Flint and Pucey were friends in school,” he replied, trying to offer some explanation, though part of it was for himself. He then saw Fincher standing in the group with Kara, the two of them seemingly perplexed. Seems he wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop at seeing Emmie and Flint in a friendly conversation. 

“Still… can’t be all that great seeing your ex talking to someone else,” Luke said with a sigh. Oliver looked back at Emmie, a pained expression coming over his face.

“She’s allowed to see who she wants. Again, it’s been a couple years,” he said before taking another drink. As far as he knew, she hadn’t really dated since they broke up while he had been connected to many women over that time. At least that’s what was reported in Witch Weekly. There were a lot more that had flown under the radar. 

“Well… you know what they say… best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Luke said lightly, grinning at him. “Come on… got someone to introduce you to…”

Oliver allowed him to lead him off, though he couldn’t help but glance at Emmie over his shoulder. It had never worked before in getting him over her, but he supposed it was worth another shot.

~~~

Emmie made up yet another excuse to go get a refill, dodging yet another player asking about her brother. She kept her responses light, but at the same time didn’t want to spend the entire party talking about Alex. Not when he still wasn’t speaking to her. 

Her mother had told her that he had finally moved back to his flat and she thought about going to check on him, but her mother warned her to wait a bit. While physically he had improved a bit, he was still in a rather fragile place mentally and emotionally, and both her parents were worried that if he got upset, he’d stop going to his appointments. Again. 

Emmie glanced around, still not seeing Oliver. She wondered if he had opted out of the party just because he didn’t want to see her. That was a lovely feeling. 

She sighed as she grabbed a bottle of beer from an open cooler and popped the top off, turning around back to the party as she took a long drink. While she was tempted to keep drinking whatever Kara had been feeding her, it was rather strong, and she knew the last thing she wanted was to be drunk should she run into Oliver.

Sighing, she glanced down and pulled at her skirt slightly and then looked back up, starting to go back to her team. She had to admit that she was beginning to feel like one of the group, in large part thanks to Taylor and Fincher. The other blokes were warming up to her, which she counted among her blessings. With everything else in her life all mixed up, at least she had that. 

Emmie began weaving her way through the crowd back to where her team was in the living room when something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She stopped and looked over, seeing a familiar head of brown hair. A familiar smile. Her heart lurched slightly.

He had come after all. 

He was smiling at someone, though Emmie couldn’t see who. She hadn’t seen him smile like that in the longest time. Certainly not with her. It felt like something was squeezing her heart as she watched him reach out, the woman he was speaking to now visible as someone stepped out of her line of sight. Emmie couldn’t remember her name, but knew she played seeker for the Harpies. He tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear and then leaned down, kissing her. 

Emmie blinked furiously as she looked away. Of course, she read the gossip columns. Knew what everyone was saying about him. Oliver Wood - the League’s biggest player in more ways than one. She had difficulty reconciling this new Oliver with the one she had grown up with. Had dated. Looking back over, she saw in the short span of time, the kiss and turned into a full-on snog session with his arm wrapped around the woman’s waist, pulling her closer. Emmie shook her head and looked around frantically before finally locating a terrace with an open door. She quickly headed towards it, trying to keep from looking over at Oliver and his date for the night.

Once outside, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to keep herself from crying. She couldn’t go back inside until she had calmed down - otherwise Kara and Fincher would immediately know something was wrong and she did not want to talk about Oliver in front of everyone. Crying would only take longer to recover from.

“You alright, MacKenzie?” 

Emmie’s eyes flew open as she looked over, seeing Flint leaning against the railing on the other side of the terrace, a cigarette in his hand and a concerned look on his face. She smiled tensely. Bother. Of course, she couldn’t have a breakdown in peace. And of course, it would have to be in front of him.

“Yea, fine. Just… needed some air,” she said quickly, glad that she had at least kept from crying as she quickly took a drink. He glanced towards the party and back at her.

“I get that. Not one for crowds either,” he said before taking a drag, though he made no move to come closer. 

“That so?” she asked. While she wasn’t sure she wanted to be standing here alone talking to her old school nemesis, she definitely didn’t want to go back in right now and risk seeing Oliver with what’s-her-name pawing all over each other. Flint nodded and smiled slightly.

“Yea… kind of avoided them the last few years… what with everything going on,” he said. 

“Oh,” Emmie replied, wrapping her arms around herself. She seriously wanted to ask what happened to him, but not at the risk of sounding rude. Flint chuckled.

“I can tell you want to ask,” he said, flicking the cigarette away and pushing off the railing. “I, ah, ended up leaving home just after Hogwarts. Kept out of sight for the worst of it. Wasn’t sure if I could fight, but definitely didn’t want to get dragged to the other side.” Emmie’s eyes widened slightly. She supposed that made sense. He had been Slytherin. She didn’t know much about his family but wondered just what he had had to face. Though she had to admit that she was most shocked by hearing that he didn’t want to join the death eaters. From what she remembered about him, he seemed like he would have joined wholeheartedly.

Perhaps he _had_ really changed.

“You… you’ve been on your own this whole time?” she asked, taking a tentative step towards him.

“Yea, though not completely. Had Pucey. And my team,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was a loud giggle and the two of them looked towards the door, seeing Oliver and the brunette stumble in front of the open doors, their arms still wrapped around each other. Emmie froze as she sucked in a quick breath. 

“Let’s get out of here,” the girl said. 

“Sure, love,” Oliver replied. He then looked over, his eyes meeting Emmie’s. The smile fell off his face as a look of shock replaced it. But before he could do or say anything, the Harpies player had already started pulling him away. He continued to glance back at Emmie a couple times, before focusing on where he was walking, stumbling here and there.

Emmie then turned back to Marcus, offering a half-hearted smile.

“Guess I should get back to the others,” she said, motioning towards the party. He nodded and stood, watching her turn.

“MacKenzie,” he said, stopping her. She looked back over at him. “For what it’s worth… you deserve better than that.”

“There was a time when you thought that was you,” she said ruefully. Marcus grimaced slightly.

“Not me. Don’t think that anymore… But… definitely better than him,” he replied. A curious look came over Emmie’s face before she smiled.

“Thanks, Flint.”

~~~

Marcus watched as Emmie walked back into the party, weaving her way through people. He then turned back to the railing and leaned against it, letting out a long, slow breath.

He had been surprised when Adrian guided him straight up to her though he wasn’t surprised to see her old captain and Watkins with her. Hufflepuffs had that kind of loyalty that lasted a lifetime, always hanging around in packs, it seemed. 

He was then gobsmacked when she willingly spoke to him. And it was friendly.

It was beyond him why she would. He had been a terror back then. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she never forgave him for how he had treated her in school. Even now, he was repulsed at himself and thought he didn’t deserve any sort of second chance. He wasn’t sure if Emmie was giving him one by being friendly or if she was just being polite in a public setting, but he had been grateful for it. It was better than anyone making a scene, for sure, though he had been worried that Fincher would have punched him if Emmie hadn’t stepped in.

For a few years now he had wanted to seek her out and apologize. Maybe explain, though he felt that his upbringing wasn’t a good enough excuse for the way he had been. Flint Manor was a cold, dark place where Aurelius Flint had ruled with an iron fist. Kindness was seen as weakness as well as anything less than brutal cruelty. The only reason Marcus had excelled at school was because his father beat him when he didn’t. The only reason he excelled in anything was because his father would beat him. And for a time, Marcus had believed - as his father did - that power was meant to be taken and wielded over others considered weaker. Namely anyone who wasn’t pureblood.

But that final fight with Emmie, when she had stood up to him, had thrown him. He spent the entire summer fuming over how a puny little Hufflepuff could have overpowered him. Outsmarted him. He had been determined to really watch her, study her, their last year at Hogwarts and find her weakness. A way to win decidedly.

What he hadn’t been expecting was to start realizing that maybe his father - and by extension himself - had been wrong. 

As the year went on, Adrian had started noticing the cracks in the walls he had built around himself and prodded at them, forcing Marcus to really examine what he thought and believed - what his father had taught him to believe. Adrian had been brought up differently, while a pureblood and Slytherin, he had often stayed out of the whole blood purity mess. For a time Marcus thought it was because Adrian thought himself better than everyone else in the house, but as he came to slowly realize that everything his father taught him was wrong, he came to understand that Adrian stayed out of it because he didn’t truly believe in any of it. And the more he watched Emmie from afar, the more he realized that strength came in many forms and power wasn’t everything. 

More than that, he realized that he had never truly been happy in his life and if happy was anything like Emmie and her friends made it seem, then he’d prefer that over how he had been living.

It had taken a few more years for those lessons to really sink in, though it helped that he had left home the summer after his seventh year. Ran off and joined the League while his father had hoped that he’d take over the family business. When things started looking bad during the war, he had then run off to distant relatives on his mother’s side in Europe. While he knew that he didn’t want to risk his father forcing him to join the death eaters, he wasn’t sure that going back to fight was the best thing either. Adrian hadn’t held it against him, though he had stayed behind and joined the battle at Hogwarts. They were Slytherins, after all, and each had his own idea on what self-preservation meant.

And still, through all that time, he kept an eye on Emmie. Not so much literally - he had his own life to live - but he saw the articles on her. Occasionally came across her at League events, though he never approached her. He was shocked when he heard about the break-up, assuming she and Wood would get married not long after they had left school and have a litter of kids. He was even more shocked when he saw all the gossip columns. Wood had always been a golden Gryffindor - brave and infuriatingly good. And seemingly in love with Emmie. How he could willingly walk away from that, Marcus didn’t understand. Though he figured it had something to do with the war. It seemed to have changed a lot of people, Emmie included. The young woman he saw that night had an air of… something about her. Darkness, perhaps? No, that was too dramatic.

But her words had a bit more bite to them. Her laugh a bit harsher edge to it. Even her responses to her teammates were a bit more cynical than he was used to. Though he felt as though he got a glimpse of the old Emmie when she was willing to speak with him.

Sighing, Marcus shook his head and turned to go back into the party. He figured he’d give it another half hour before he bowed out. He really didn’t like large parties. 


	7. The Aftermath

Oliver kept his breathing even as he lifted weights in the gym after practice ended. While Weathers had told him he was doing better, he still felt like he needed to catch up more. Not to mention he wasn’t in any rush to go back to his empty flat. 

All weekend, all he could see was the hurt in Emmie’s eyes when he ran into her at the party. They hadn’t spoken and it was only a few seconds before the Harpies player had dragged him off, but it was long enough for the ache in his chest to increase to a near unbearable level. He had spent the night at the seeker’s, trying not to picture Emmie in his mind, but slipped out early the next morning while she was still asleep, slightly disgusted with himself. Then Sunday he spent the day either staring at the wall in his living room or lying in his bed staring at the ceiling. Every time he stepped out to use the loo or get something to drink, the shut door of his spare room taunted him. But he didn’t want to go in and drown in even more memories.

He wished that Carpenter hadn’t introduced him to the seeker. That he hadn’t had a few drinks before going to the party. That he hadn’t gone a bit heavy-handed on his drinks while there, anxious about seeing Emmie. That he hadn’t kissed the seeker. He wasn’t even sure why he had started snogging her in the first place. And then that they had run into Emmie at the worst possible moment. 

Groaning, he put the weights aside and sat up, rubbing his face. He wasn’t sure what he would have said to her if the situation had been different, but anything would have been better than her witnessing him walking out of the party with another woman on his arm. She’d probably never speak to him again now, though it wasn’t as though he had much hope anyway. The few times they had run into each other over the years since the break-up had been short and tense.

“Did better today, Wood,” Wilda said, walking up to him. He looked over at her, noticing they were the only ones in the gym.

“Thanks,” he said with a sigh. She moved to sit on a nearby bench, her blue eyes studying him intently.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked softly. Oliver looked over at her, a retort to stay out of his business on the tip of his tongue. But she didn’t look judgmental. Just worried in a sort of motherly way. He sighed again and shook his head.

“I saw her… at the party,” he said quietly, not sure just why he was opening up to Wilda. Probably because he hadn’t been able to talk about Emmie with anyone over the years and it was starting to wear him down. “Just as I was leaving with someone else…” He looked away, not wanting to see her reaction. Wilda had made clear her thoughts on his partying and philandering. 

“Harpies seeker. I heard,” Wilda replied. Oliver winced slightly.

“It was… stupid,” he admitted. “I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” Wilda sighed, drawing his attention. He looked up, seeing her eyes were soft.

“I think… I think sometimes we don’t know how to deal with some things, which leads to poor choices… but… nothing will be fixed if you keep ignoring the original problem,” she said softly. 

“Not sure I can fix me and Emmie,” Oliver said. Wilda frowned slightly, as though that wasn’t the problem she meant, but this was the most he had opened up lately. She figured it was best to run with it, lest he shut down completely.

“Then you have to figure out how to let go of her,” Wilda stated. 

“Not sure I know how to do that either,” he said. 

“I mean… I know that a lot has happened… with both of you… to be honest, I’m not exactly sure what went wrong,” she said. “But if you can’t or won’t fix it, then you have to get over it.” Before he could reply, she stood and started towards the door. “And for Merlin’s sake, stop shagging everyone in the League. You’re going to run out of hearts to break.” 

Oliver frowned as he looked over, watching her leave the gym. While he was hurt at the comment, he knew that she was right. He needed to find a way to get over Emmie if he wasn’t going to try and mend things. Not that he thought he even had a decent chance at mending things with her. He shook his head and laid back down on the bench.

He obviously wasn’t going to figure this out tonight, so might as well get some more training in and hopefully clear his head.

~~~

Emmie stretched in front of her locker before starting to remove her practice gear. It had been another good practice and Shackles had bestowed a few more compliments on her, which had her in a better mood. She had stayed at the party a bit longer after the run-in with Oliver, but found she just wasn’t in the mood, so she and Kara had ducked out about 45 minutes later after checking on Melanie. She hadn’t been ready to leave and assured the both of them she would be fine, though they had tasked Fincher, Parks and Whitshire to keep an eye on her.

They then had gone through a decent amount of their alcohol stash, Kara lamenting about how ridiculous Oliver had gotten in hilarious fashion that had even Emmie laughing. They then spent a couple hours going on about how incredibly stupid men were and perhaps they should consider dating older men. At least then they might have a chance at finding a decent bloke. Emmie had mused that Charlie Weasley was still single and rather fit, though Kara shut that down by asking if she wanted to move to Romania. Neither of them thought that appealing.

When Monday morning dawned, Emmie was in a better mood despite her hangover on Sunday and was ready to focus on playing. She was surprised that she hadn’t even really thought about the party or Oliver that much, focusing solely on getting the plays right and trying out a few new moves that the chaser coach had dreamed up for her. It had been a good day, that was for sure. 

“Oi, MacKenzie. What’s this I hear about you, Wood, and Flint?” Wickens called out. Emmie paused and looked over at him, slightly irritated. And here she thought that she could go a day without talking about Oliver.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, turning back to her locker, catching the anxious look Fincher was giving her out of the corner of her eye. On her other side, Pucey was giving her a curious one. “You know that I had a bit of a feud with Flint in school, but it’s been over with for a long time.”

“That so? The gossip columns seem to think there’s some sort of fling going on,” he replied with a laugh. Emmie froze and then scowled at him. She had decided to stop reading them over the weekend, though it now seemed she wouldn’t escape them regardless.

“Excuse me?” she asked, turning to face him as Taylor shot him a dirty look. 

“Well… someone was at the party, it seemed. Saw you talking with Flint on the terrace. Said you were getting cozy and that perhaps the feud was finally put to rest, but then Wood walked in on you,” he said nonchalantly.

“Don’t believe all the shit you read, Wickens,” Emmie spat, tossing her shin guards into her locker. “Nothing happened.” She caught Taylor smacking the beater on the arm. “Did it also mentioned the woman on Wood’s arm as he stumbled out of the party thoroughly pissed?”

“Well, yea...” he said.

“See? Nothing. And it’ll stay that way,” Emmie said, pulling her robe on furiously and walking out of the changing room.

“Must you be such an idiot?” Taylor said as soon as she left. 

“What? She’s gotta get used to it. Likely to be more stories,” Wickens said, rubbing his arm. “And more parties. Needs a thicker skin if it’s going to piss her off every time the rags bring her and Wood up.” 

“Yea, but you don’t have to rub it in her face,” Taylor retorted as she started towards the showers. 

“I thought it was over years ago. Why she still sore about it?” Wickens asked, genuinely confused. Taylor just rolled her eyes and left the room. 

“And as for Flint - that was a fair bit more than a feud,” Fincher said, frowning at him. “Had her in the hospital wing a couple times.”

“First of all, one time was for quidditch and it was an accident,” Pucey said, feeling the need to defend his friend. “Secondly, he’s not like that anymore, which you would know if you had actually talked to him instead of glaring at him the whole time.” He then stalked into the men’s showers.

“Bloody hell, what’s this nonsense?” Beauchamp complained, frowning at Fincher. “Flint’s decent enough. Leave the Hogwarts shite at Hogwarts.” Fincher’s frown deepened.

“You weren’t there, mate,” Fincher said before walking into the showers. Beauchamp just rolled his eyes and looked at Wickens.

“Still think she’s going to fit in?” he asked. “Already starting bloody fights…” Wickens didn’t answer, just glanced from the women’s shower room to the men’s. He then shrugged and walked into the showers, Beauchamp following him with a heavy sigh.

~~~

Emmie was vigorously washing her hair when Taylor walked in and took the stall next to her, glancing over at her worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Emmie said. 

“You sure?” Taylor asked. Emmie sighed.

“I was until Wickens brought up bloody Oliver,” she grumbled. “Can’t even go one day without someone or something mentioning him…”

“It’s no excuse, but suppose he was curious,” Taylor said.

“You saw me for most of the party! I was nowhere near Oliver. And pretty much only spoke to Flint with the group outside of the couple of minutes we were on the terrace. Whoever is writing this rubbish is going to have some strong words from me,” she continued ranting.

“I hate to admit it, but Wickens did make a good point after you walked out. They are going to bring up you and Wood. And you and Flint, if they know about the feud. You’re going to have to learn to deal with it. You’re not in reserves anymore,” Taylor said gently. Emmie took a deep breath and slowly let it out, nodding.

“I know. And I can. Just… wasn’t expecting it to come up in the locker room,” she admitted. Taylor chuckled.

“Wickens is about as subtle as a herd of hippogriffs. That you can most definitely count on,” she said. “Learned the hard way my first season.” Emmie glanced at her. “But… he does have a heart. May take some getting used to, but he’ll come around and be your staunchest supporter.”

“Hoping it’s sooner rather than later,” Emmie muttered. 

“It will be,” Taylor said, smiling. “So… I know you said it was shite, but… what did happen?”

“I saw Oliver snogging the seeker from the Harpies and went out for air. Flint happened to be there and we chatted for a couple minutes when Oliver and the seeker stumbled in front of the doors,” she said. “Didn’t say anything, just walked off together and left the party. That’s about it…”

“Shit. That had to be uncomfortable,” Taylor said, genuinely sorry for Emmie.

“Well… it’s not like I didn’t know… just different seeing it… I hadn’t even seen him in a few months, to be honest,” Emmie said. 

“It’ll get easier,” Taylor said. “And Flint?”

“Seriously, nothing there,” Emmie said with a roll of her eyes. “I mean… you have to remember that the last time I had any sort of substantial interaction with him, he was trying to get me to shag him in sixth year.” Taylor’s eyebrows rose. “He seems different, but… suppose I’m still a bit wary…”

“Don’t blame you there. Though Beauchamp spends a decent amount of time with him. Says he’s pretty quiet and stays to himself for the most part,” Taylor said. Emmie frowned in surprise. That did not sound like the Flint she knew back then. Just what had happened to him over the years? The more she thought about it, the more curious she got. “Though he was gone for most of the season just before the end of the war…”

“Yea, he mentioned that,” Emmie said. “Wanted to get away from his family…” Taylor just shrugged.

“Anywho, you want to grab drinks tonight?” she asked.

“Going to get dinner and drinks with Fincher and some of the other blokes from my old Hufflepuff team. But you’re more than welcome to join us,” Emmie offered. Taylor smiled.

“Sounds like a plan…” 

~~~

After they had all changed and such, Emmie, Fincher, and Taylor headed off to their favorite pub in Diagon Alley, settling in at a table towards the back, waiting on Parks and Whitshire. Once they had ordered and then their drinks came, Fincher turned to Emmie.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. Emmie rolled her eyes. Seemed he was still playing the concerned captain.

“Really, Fincher. It’s fine,” she said. 

“MAC!” 

She looked over, smiling as the two beaters lumbered over to the table. She launched off her stool and shot over, giving the two large hugs. Even despite their busy schedule playing for the Pride and Wanderers, the group still managed to get together a fair bit.

“Good to see you, Bellweather,” Parks said, shooting her a grin.

“Still with my boyfriend, Parks,” Taylor sang.

“Ah, well, a bloke can dream,” he said as he sat down. “What’s this I hear about a to-do with Flint and Wood?” Emmie rolled her eyes yet again.

“Fucking hell, it was nothing! Why does anyone even care?” she nearly shouted, reaching for her beer and sloshing a bit of it as she brought it to her lips. Parks and Whitshire looked over at Fincher, who just shook his head. They still weren’t quite used to the blunter, harsher Emmie. 

“Surprised you were even talking to Flint, to be honest,” Parks admitted.

“It was a long time ago,” Emmie said. “And… well… he seems different. Really different, actually...”

“Well, if anyone gives you trouble, you know you can let us know and we’ll take care of it,” Whitshire said. Emmie smiled slightly at him.

“I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’m a big girl,” she replied. 

The group then moved on to less tense subjects - namely the four Hufflepuffs entertaining Taylor with stories from when they were in school together. She had been six years ahead of Emmie and in Gryffindor, so had missed most of their shenanigans, though she had known her brother and Ryan Wood. 

Sometime around their second beer, someone accidentally bumped into Parks from behind, causing him to turn and scowl. Granted, it was quickly replaced with a smile when he saw who it was. 

“Johnson. Haven’t seen you in a bit,” he said. Emmie nearly spit out her beer as she looked over and saw Angelina Johnson standing there with Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet. She had lost contact with the trio since the break-up and honestly had tried to stay away, knowing they were all friends with Oliver.

“Been busy. How are you?” she asked, glancing around the table.

“Fair enough,” he replied. “You coming or going?”

“Been trying to find a bloody open table for the last 10 minutes,” Alicia griped. 

“Join us. We’ve got the room,” Whitshire said with a grin, though Emmie grimaced. She quickly covered it with a smile, though Taylor caught it. 

“Alright. Only if it’s okay,” Angelina said, glancing around the group. They quickly shifted around, making room for three more stools.

“Story there?” Taylor whispered to her as the three ordered their drinks and a few more appetizers.

“Oliver’s friends,” Emmie whispered back before smiling at the additions to their table. She was never going to escape him today, even though he wasn’t even present. 

“Congrats on first string, Mac,” Alicia said across the table, genuinely happy for her.

“Thanks,” she replied.

“Tried to tell you at the party, but didn’t get a chance before you left,” Alicia added. 

“Ah, well… there were a few too many people there for my taste,” Emmie said, though she winced slightly, worried that it came off as complaining about Oliver. That wasn’t exactly what she meant. Katie looked down at her drink, suddenly becoming visibly uncomfortable. 

“Right. Yea. Harker goes a bit overboard,” Angelina said quickly, shooting a look at Alicia. Emmie looked at her and offered tight smile. 

“Suppose I’ll just have to get used to it… all the parties and such,” she said before taking a drink of her beer. Taylor and Fincher were glancing around the women, immediately catching onto the air of awkwardness. Parks and Whitshire were - as usual - oblivious. Finally, Alicia sighed and put her glass down on the table. 

“Might as well just come out with it - we don’t talk to him anymore. And if any of us are going to take a side, it’s yours,” she said bluntly. Emmie’s eyes widened slightly, though she should have known that Alicia would be the one that wouldn’t beat around the bush. Though she had to admit that it helped her relax slightly. 

“I didn’t know about Ashley until this morning,” Katie said quietly, still a little nervous.

“Heavens, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Emmie said, smiling at the younger woman. “I’m not angry with you. Or Ashley, for that matter.” Katie nodded, starting to smile slightly. “I’m not put out with any of you, just… wasn’t sure…” 

“Suppose it doesn’t help that I’ve replaced your brother,” Alicia said. “How’s he doing?” Emmie winced again. Seemed everyone was par for the course with uncomfortable subjects. Though she had to admit she was getting tired of pretending everything was fine.

“Rough,” she said, finally being more honest about the situation. “He won’t speak to me… I upset him a bit too much last time I saw him… But he’s back home now. Think he’s still going to his physical therapy appointments…” Alicia’s face fell slightly, apparently not knowing how serious things were with Alex.

“Suppose that’s not easy,” she admitted. Emmie nodded, staring down at her drink. 

“Mum says he just needs some time to get himself sorted,” she replied. She glanced up at the group, taking in their morose looks. “But I’m sure he’ll be fine in no time. He’s a rather strong lad.” She smiled weakly. “No need to look so glum.”

“Right… you lot ready for the season to open?” Fincher asked, looking around the group, a smile on his face. Emmie was grateful for the subject change. She wasn’t sure just how long she could put a good face on her brother’s condition. That he may never play again and it was her fault.

Sighing, she took a drink and listened in to the conversation. In a second, the group had lightened up, eager to talk shop. Talking quidditch was easy. Much easier than talking about the war and everything tied up with it. 

If only Emmie could spend the rest of her life only talking about quidditch.


	8. A Bumpy Road

Despite his earlier thought that it might not be good to see Percy again, Oliver found himself sitting across a table from his old friend, the two of them with pints. He still wasn’t completely sure just what it was that made him send the owl asking to meet up, but he suspected it was something to do with what Wilda had told him. 

He had spent a few days thinking it over and she had a point. He desperately needed to get his shite together and so far, he had failed on his own. And Luke and the lads were most definitely not helping. In the past he would always go to Emmie for help, but that was obviously not an option. And without her, he wasn’t sure where to turn. As much as Wilda seemed willing, he didn’t want to open up much more than he already had to his captain. He figured if anyone would understand, offer him sound advice as well as the occasional kick in the ass when needed, it would be Percy.

“I was a bit surprised to get your owl,” Percy admitted, dragging Oliver from his thoughts. “Forgive me, but you didn’t seem so keen on meeting up again last time.”

“Bit surprised that I sent it, myself,” Oliver said. “But… Figured it might be good. To hang out more. Reconnect and such.” Percy nodded slowly. 

“I saw the latest… about the party,” he said cautiously, wondering if that was the reason Wood had contacted him. Oliver stiffened slightly as he looked down at his glass. He still hadn’t gotten the look of pain in Emmie’s eyes out of his head.

“Yea… that was… unfortunate,” he said, not looking at Percy.

“Unfortunate?” Percy said with a snort. “From the way the papers made it sound, you were snogging some other woman and then had a bit of a tiff with Flint and Emmie.”

“That’s not what happened,” Oliver said, looking up at him. “There was no fight. She was out on a balcony… and I accidentally stumbled out there…”

“With another woman,” Percy added. 

“Okay… well yea… that bit was true,” he said, looking back down at his drink. “Figured she’d be there… wasn’t sure if I was ready to see her… had too much to drink…”

“And thought snogging the Harpies seeker was the best way to handle that?” Percy said, getting straight to the point. Oliver looked up at him, frowning slightly. Though his voice was clipped, Percy didn’t appear angry, more so that he was trying to understand what was going through Oliver’s mind. And even Oliver couldn’t be mad at the comment. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Oliver said honestly. “I saw her with Flint before that… she was laughing and seemed to be having a good time… Carpenter commented on it… said I should meet the seeker...”

“So you were trying to get even, was it?” Percy asked, perplexed. Oliver frowned again.

“No. I was… I was trying to get over her. Been trying to get over her for almost two bloody years,” Oliver said, running his fingers through his hair. Percy’s stern look faded as he took in just how distraught his former best friend was. He had long known that Oliver wasn’t handling things well. Nor was he over Emmie even though he couldn’t fathom why he would break up with her in the first place. It had all happened rather quickly in his mind, though must have been months in the making. Watching him now, Percy couldn’t help but wonder if Oliver had spoken to anyone about Emmie or Ryan.

“You never told me why you broke up,” he ventured. “Was it… did it have to do with Cedric? Or Ry-” 

“I left her,” Oliver said, back to staring at his glass and cutting Percy off before he could mention his brother. “That’s all you need to know. It just… it wasn’t working after… with everything… I thought she’d be better off without me…” Percy was silent, watching as Oliver fought to keep his expression neutral, though the pain was obvious in his eyes. “Still think she’s better off without me…” 

“There was a time when I thought you two were perfect for each other,” Percy finally said with a sigh. “Considering all the effort that went into getting you together in the first place…” Oliver looked up at him. “Still think you two could possibly work things out-”

“She won’t talk to me, Perce,” Oliver said harshly. “Granted, it’s not as though I’ve tried.” Percy nodded, knowing that he was pushing it. Oliver already looked halfway ready to bolt.

“Then… you’ve no choice. You’ve got to move on,” he said sensibly. “And preferably in a healthier manner than you have been. That doesn’t involve snogging loads of women in front of your ex. Can’t be pleasant for Mac.”

Oliver nodded, back to staring despondently at his pint, spinning the glass slowly in his hands. Percy looked down at his glass, thinking perhaps a subject change was in order. One that might kill two birds with one stone.

“Saw George the other day, by the way,” he said. Oliver’s eyes flicked up to him. “Thinking about re-opening the shop… and he asked about you.” 

“He did?” Oliver asked, sitting up slightly. He hadn’t seen or spoken to George since the battle. Once again, he felt the guilt swirling around for how he had cut off everyone. He was sure the former twin had a rough go of it. It was one thing to lose a brother, an entirely different thing to lose a twin, he thought. Percy nodded.

“You should stop by and visit sometime. He’s still in the flat above the shop,” Percy said. Oliver swallowed, not sure if he was ready for that. He still hadn’t really come to terms with the fact that his brother was dead and that had been almost two years. He hadn’t even begun processing the fact that Fred was gone. It wouldn’t be the same to go to flat or the shop and see George there alone.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” he said after a bit. Percy nodded and smiled slightly. He figured that was good enough for now. He had other ideas in mind for dealing with Oliver.

“Oi! Weasley! How dare you go out and not call me!” a loud voice proclaimed. “Bad enough every time I owl you, I get some shite excuse about the Ministry needing you.” Oliver’s eyes widened as he looked over and saw Alicia Spinnet walking up to the table, a woman just behind her - Talia Pippins, another chaser for the Wanderers. Alicia was frowning, though there was a twinkle in her dark eyes.

“Wasn’t expecting to be out,” Percy replied, though he glanced at Oliver across the table and a curious look came over his face. Alicia looked over, her mouth dropping open as she finally noticed that Oliver was sitting there.

“Oh… good to see you, Wood,” she said, smiling nervously. “It’s been awhile.” Talia stood at her side, her eyebrows raised. Though she seemed much more keen to know just why Wood was there.

“You too, Spinnet. How’s the Wanderers?” he asked, hoping his tone was friendly rather than strained, though knew he was failing slightly from the look on her face.

“Decent,” Alicia replied, glancing at Talia. “Practice is picking up a bit with the season starting soon. Suppose it’s the same with you.” Oliver nodded. 

“Just about,” he replied, silently wishing they would quickly walk away so he could get back to his conversation with Percy.

“It’s been awhile. Why don’t you two join us,” Percy said warmly, which earned him a frown from Oliver. He had invited him out to talk about his issues - not reconnect with former friends. What was Percy getting at? 

“Oh, well… wouldn’t want to intrude,” Alicia said quickly, though Percy noticed Talia kicking her lightly before smiling at him. 

“Not at all,” he replied, clearly seeing the frown that Oliver was sending him. He ignored it as he waved his wand and two more chairs pulled up to the table. Oliver reaching out to him was obviously a cry for help and he figured there was no better way to help get him back to where he should be than by reintroducing his old friends back into his life. 

Talia smiled at Oliver as she sat next to him - a bit closer than Oliver would have liked, truthfully - Alicia moving to sit across from her. They quickly ordered drinks as Oliver returned to slowly spinning his glass on the table. 

“How’s things with Puddlemere?” Talia asked, leaning even closer towards Oliver.

“Fair,” he replied immediately, not looking at her though he leaned slightly away, feeling her entering his personal space. Alicia shot her a look across the table, giving her head a quick shake. It was obvious they had interrupted a private conversation from the look of Oliver’s face, and she didn’t want to make it any worse by her teammate coming on to him. Or worse. Fishing for gossip.

“Heard you ran into MacKenzie the other day. She say anything about Alex?” Talia asked, now looking at Alicia. Oliver winced as Percy watched him closely and Alicia’s look turned into a scowl as she cursed under her breath. Talia was too busy watching Oliver’s reaction out of the corner of her eye.

“Just that he’s still in no shape to return,” Alicia said, trying to keep her voice even. She was regretting that they had sat down at the table and was already trying to come up with an excuse for them to leave. 

“He that bad?” Percy asked, looking towards her. He hadn’t heard anything about the older MacKenzie over the summer - just that he had been injured during the battle at Hogwarts. 

“Yea… said he’s refusing to talk to her,” Alicia said, grabbing at her pint as it appeared in front of her. She honestly wished she could have gotten something stronger - she’d likely need it to get through this conversation. 

“Why?” Oliver asked, a look of confusion on his face. Alicia’s eyes widened as she looked over at him, realizing she said too much.

“Well… they aren’t sure if he’ll play again. Guess that’s got him a bit on edge… she said he won’t answer her owls or anything...” Alicia said reluctantly. Oliver nodded, staring at his glass again.

“Tough go of it,” Talia said with a sigh. “He was one of the best chasers we’ve ever had, no offense, Spinnet.”

“None taken,” Alicia said quickly.

“Shame to possibly lose him because of this… much like how we lost your brother,” Talia said, turning to Oliver. He flinched.

“What do you mean?” he asked, glancing up at her. Ryan had played on the Wasps until he died.

“Didn’t he tell you? About the transfer?” she asked, seeming surprised that he didn’t know. “Contract was already in the works…about as good as done, actually…

No one moved for a few seconds, all of them watching as various emotions flew over Oliver’s face. He then downed his drink and stood.

“If you’ll excuse me… Got another appointment,” he said before turning and striding off.

“What the hell, Talia!” he heard Alicia shout. 

“What?!” Talia replied. “I thought you all knew!”

He swallowed hard as he pushed through the people and walked out onto the street. It was still relatively early in the night and he was seriously tempted to go down the street to the pub where Carpenter and the others always hung out – surely they would get his mind off his brother. But just as he took a step in that direction, he stopped. 

Shaking his head, he turned around and started towards his flat. If he was going to get serious about this, he needed to stop going out with them. Using them as a crutch when things got difficult. Of course, this wasn’t much of a step forward since he was already thinking about the bottle of firewhiskey that he had at home.

Sighing, he continued walking, trying not to think about his brother or Emmie or Alex MacKenzie.

~~~

A couple days later, Oliver stood in the middle of the street, staring at the boarded up Weasley Wizard Wheezes. He hadn’t even realized where he was walking until he looked up and found himself outside the shop. He had been thinking about owling George for a few days, but never did, unsure if he’d want to speak to him. 

Which is why he was beyond surprised that he had walked here after practice instead of going home. But now that he was here, he figured he might as well see if George was home.

Sighing, he moved towards the stairs at the side of the building that led up to the flat on the top floor so that folks could come and go without having to go through the shop. He wasn’t even sure if George would be here. Perhaps he’d be off at the Burrow and Oliver could make a quick exit home and forget he had even come at all.

He stood in front of the door a few moments, still contemplating if he wanted to do this before he knocked, his eyes squeezed shut. He waited but didn’t hear anything. Sighing as he opened his eyes, he turned, intending to climb back down the stairs when the door suddenly opened.

“Wood? That you?” 

He turned, seeing a confused George staring out the doorway. He was still just as tall and lanky as before, but he now had a scruffy beard and looked as though he were in serious need of a haircut, his ginger locks now shaggy and hitting his shoulders. He wore a robe that had seen better days, though at least his pyjamas looked clean.

However, it was the look on his face that told Oliver that Percy clearly hadn’t been telling the truth.

“Hey… Perce said you asked after me. Though I’d… come by to check on you,” Oliver said, gripping the strap of his bag tightly as he offered a nervous smile. George looked him up and down then sighed, stepping back and motioning for Oliver to come in. 

“You sure that’s the case or did he send you?” George asked, a harsh edge to his voice as Oliver followed him inside and shut the door behind him. The flat was unusually dark with all the curtains shut tight and a fire going besides the fact it was the end of August. While the twins had never been good at keeping tidy, it seemed even more cluttered with various food containers and empty bottles strewn about along with a large amount of indistinguishable rubbish.

“He didn’t send me,” Oliver said, looking around. In a way, it reminded him of his own flat, which only caused the ache in his chest to increase. George quickly began to pick up some of the bottles and containers that were on the coffee table and sofa, shuffling over to a rubbish bin where he tried to shove them in. Oliver saw a hint of embarrassment come over George’s face as he turned away from him. 

“Have a seat. Can I get you something? Tea? Beer? Firewhiskey?” George asked from the kitchen. 

“I’m fine,” Oliver replied as he sat on the sofa, looking over to see George walking back with a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses. “Or firewhiskey’ll do…” 

George put them down on the table and poured as Oliver studied him. He was shocked at how much he had changed in just a few months. Granted, it’s not like he could say anything. He hadn’t shaved for months after Ryan died and the break-up and wore the same clothes for days on end before he went back to practice.

“Starting to look more like Bill,” Oliver said finally, causing George to pause and look up at him. There was a ghost of a smile on his face as he held out one of the glasses and then sat in an armchair after picking up his own.

“Mum keeps threatening to cut it in my sleep,” he said. “I think it makes me look more dashing.” Though he was now fully smiling, it seemed hollow. Empty. 

“Not sure if dashing is the right word, but… it’s different,” Oliver replied, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a cautious drink. George downed half of his in one go. Oliver shifted awkwardly on the sofa. It felt strange being there without Fred. He still half expected him to come rushing in at any moment.

More than that, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was why Percy had sent him here. Was he supposed to try and talk George out of his obvious depression? Or was George supposed to scare him out of his own?

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Oliver said lightly, glancing around the living room. 

“Suspect Percy’ll be by to clean soon. He usually stops by every week or so to make sure I’m still alive,” George replied, the smile fading from his lips. “Or Ginny. Though she yells. I don’t much like when she comes around.” He then fixed Oliver in a cold stare. “Just why are you here, Wood? I haven’t seen you since the battle-” his voice cracked slightly, but he shook his head and soldiered on. “Haven’t really spoken to you much since…” 

“Like I said, Percy mentioned that you asked after me,” Oliver said. “Said I should stop by…”

“I asked if you were still shagging your way through the League,” George said harshly. Oliver winced. “Though suppose I should have reached out sooner. Seems I’d finally get my drinking buddy. The others don’t like to drink as much.” He took another large drink of his whiskey, nearly emptying the glass. Oliver stared down at his glass.

“Suppose I deserve that,” he said. “Not like I’ve been around lately…” 

“You think you’d come over and we’d bond, is it? Over losing our brothers?” George asked, reclining slightly in his chair. A cold smile appeared on his face. “That’s lovely.” 

“That’s not it,” Oliver said, looking over at his old friend. The absolute last thing he wanted to talk about was Ryan. 

“Perhaps it’s a good thing you came by. You seem to have the right idea on handling all this,” George said, motioning wildly around the room. “Perhaps we can go out and you can introduce me to some of your new lady friends.” Oliver winced again. This was worse than hanging out with Percy. At least he didn’t fling his current lifestyle in his face. “How’s that working for you, mate?”

“It’s not,” Oliver said, swallowing as he met George’s eyes. The ginger man laughed loudly.

“Ah, now I see. You’ve somehow seen the light and come to enlighten me. Well, then. Go on. Enlighten me. Funny how just this weekend I read that you were off shagging one of the Harpies as some sort of revenge against Mac for being with Flint,” George said. Oliver looked back down at his glass. “Never thought I’d live to see the day she’d end up with Flint…”

“It’s not like that,” Oliver said harshly. “They were just talking. And I-” He stopped, unsure how to finish that statement. He was beginning to regret coming over here. And he was angry as hell at Percy for suggesting it in the first place. It was obvious that George didn’t want to see him. This was some sort of set up. And one that he didn’t enjoy.

“And you what?” George asked, sitting up in the chair and leaning towards Oliver. “If you didn’t come to try and drag me out of my misery, or join me in wallowing in it, then why are you here? Guilt, is it? You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about.” Oliver looked over at him. George was now looking into the flames, a sheen of tears in his eyes. He wiped at them furiously.

“I was angry with you. For a long time. We all knew you were struggling. Couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t let any of us help you,” George said, his voice going soft. “Especially why you’d push Mac away… but now… I get it now.” He looked over, meeting Oliver’s eyes. “You didn’t want anyone to see how bad it is.” 

“Yea,” Oliver admitted. It was the first time he had said as much. George nodded. 

“And now I can see that it doesn’t get better,” he continued, reaching for the bottle and pouring more into his glass. “That’s bloody fantastic.” 

“You don’t have to be like me,” Oliver found himself saying. It was true. George had always been so loud and happy. He didn’t want him to go down the path he had taken. Isolating himself from his family and friends. Trying to deal with it on his own when there were others willing to help him. He didn’t want him to continue wallowing in his grief, becoming a bitter, hard shell of who he used to be. “You’ve got Perce. Ginny. Your family. And the others.” George just blinked a bit. “Fuck’s sake, George. Don’t be like me. I’m on the brink of losing everything…”

“Maybe I already have,” George replied.

“You haven’t,” Oliver said. “Not yet.” Merlin, he didn’t want George to become like him. He deserved better than that. George looked down at his glass.

“I still think… I still think that he’s going to come back,” he said, his voice cracking again. “Any minute now. He’s going to walk through the door, some brilliant idea on his mind.” He took a deep, shuddery breath. “But he’s not.” He looked around the flat. “I’ve even thought about selling this place, but can’t bring myself to do it…”

“You shouldn’t,” Oliver said. “Fred would come back and haunt you to the end of time if you did that.” George stared at him a bit before looking back at his glass, another ghost of a smile on his face.

“He would, wouldn’t he?” he asked softly.

“Percy said you were thinking of reopening the shop,” Oliver said.

“I mentioned it once when I was drunk and now he brings it up every time he comes over,” George said.

“You should,” Oliver said. “Maybe… it could help…” George stared at him.

“Did going back to quidditch help you?” he asked. 

“A bit, yea,” Oliver said. “It’s helping now, at least.” George nodded again and then took a drink. “I could… if it would help, I could help you with it.” George snorted.

“What do you know about pranks and jokes?” he asked.

“Not much. But I could help with getting the shop sorted. You’d have to take the lead on products. But I could at least help you clean it out,” Oliver said, not quite believing what he was suggesting. But at the back of his mind, he was settled on the decision. Maybe even getting slightly excited about it. It was true that he probably couldn’t work there or help develop products, but he could try and help get things in shape to re-open. Perhaps it would help the both of them.

“You’d do that?” George asked, not quite believing him. “Help me clean out the shop? Get it set right?” Oliver nodded. 

“I can help after practice. On the weekends when I don’t have matches,” he said. 

“Why?” George asked. Oliver shrugged.

“Seems like a better way to spend my time than getting pissed in my flat alone,” he answered honestly. “Or out trying to pick up some bird whose name I won’t remember the next day. Besides… if it looks anything like your flat, you need the help.”

George looked down at his glass, considering the offer. Oliver wasn’t sure what he’d say, but he was hoping it would be yes.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally, glancing up at Oliver.

“Good enough for me,” Oliver replied. George studied him a bit longer. 

“So… just how are you planning to make a comeback this season?”


	9. Opening Day

Emmie took a deep breath as she focused on tightening her shin guards and then checking her gloves and arm guards. She couldn’t help but bounce her leg as nervous energy coursed through her. 

This was it. Her first match on first string. Opening day of the season.

All around her, the locker room was full of loud conversations as the rest of the team joked around while they got into their robes, though Adrian was silent on her other side, intently lacing up his boots. 

“You ready for this, Mac?” Fincher asked. Emmie looked over at him and smiled, nodding her head.

“Born ready,” she retorted lightly.

“That’s the spirit,” he said, smacking her on the back. “Hope you ate well this morning.”

“Hey… I’m the captain here!” Beauchamp shouted as Emmie rolled her eyes. Seemed some things never changed. “You did eat, right, Mac?”

“Bloody hell, I think I know how to take care of myself before a match,” Emmie exclaimed, looking over at him. It was like the Hufflepuff team all over again.

“Ah, you do, do ya?” Wickens shouted as he waggled his eyebrows at her. Emmie just snorted as she turned to check on her broom and Taylor smacked him in the arm. 

“What did I say about the dirty talk?” she said, still frowning at him. 

“It’s fine, Taylor,” Emmie called out, getting their attention. “Pretty sure it’s all the action he gets anyway.” Taylor beamed at her as Beauchamp, Martin and Fincher laughed loudly. Wickens slowly started to grin. Emmie caught Adrian chuckling softly at her side. 

“Well, if it’s action you want-”

“Do not finish that, Wickens,” Shackles said as he strode into the locker room. Immediately, everyone was on their feet facing him, serious looks on their faces as they held their brooms at their sides. “I do not need to walk in on your shit again.” Emmie glanced over at the beater, seeing his face turn slightly red. “Alright, now that I’ve got your attention… this is it. Not just our first match of the season, but the season opener. There’s a lot of eager fans out there counting on us. Bellweather, keep your eye on my sign. I don’t want you getting that snitch too soon unless they somehow manage to pull ahead too quickly in the game.” Taylor nodded her head. “Wickens and Martins, remember their seeker can change direction wicked fast, so careful not to accidentally hit one of us.” His eyes fell on Fincher. “Block every shot, Fincher. Though remember that Carpenter often leans in the direction he’s going to throw, Walters looks at it, and Griffiths is unpredictable.” Fincher nodded. Shackles then settled his gaze on Emmie, Adrian and Beauchamp. “Remember the plays and formations. Watch out for tackles - Carpenter is known for getting rough - and remember that Wood’s been sluggish all summer. If you change up the passes at the last second like we practiced, he won’t be able to block a damn thing.”

Emmie gulped slightly as she nodded along with the other chasers.

“Alright, bring it in!”

Emmie quickly moved up, putting her hand in with the rest of the team.

“ARROWS! ARROWS! ARROWS!”

~~~

Oliver slowly breathed in and out as he did some last-minute adjustments to his keeper padding and robes. He felt a bit twitchy, though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t really like him to get nervous before a match. Granted that was likely because he was usually hungover from the night before and trying to hide it from Weathers.

Luke had tried to get him out last night with some of the others, but he had begged off, instead going home and getting into bed early without a single drink. It was the first match to make an impression, and he had to make sure that he started off strong if he wanted to stay on first string. Though before he had gone to bed, he had sent off box tickets to Percy and George. Percy had responded right away that he would be there, but he hadn’t heard back from George. Oliver wasn’t really expecting him to be there, but he hoped that he might show after their tense reunion turned a bit lighter. They had spent a couple hours talking quidditch before Oliver left.

“Alright, ya pansies, get over here,” Weather said as he strode into the room. Oliver quickly turned and gave the coach his undivided attention. He went through the usual, reminding them that they’ve all worked hard in practice and there’s no reason they shouldn’t win, blah, blah, blah. He then gave out pointers to each player, reminding them of the other team’s strengths and weaknesses.

“Now, I know that Pucey and MacKenzie are new, but do not go easy on them,” Weathers said, glancing around. “Pucey had a strong two seasons on the Wasps and MacKenzie’s been groomed from day 1 to be a damn good chaser. Knowing her and Shackles, she’ll probably attempt to pull off some tricks. Stay close. Look for openings,” he said. He then settled his gaze on Oliver. “Your speed’s up, Wood, but I need you faster. Block their goals or die trying.”

“Yes, sir,” Oliver replied, finding the statement familiar. Had coach said it to him before?

“Let’s go, Puddlemere!”

“PUDDLEMERE! PUDDLEMERE!”

~~~

“And welcome to the opening match of the British and Irish Quidditch League’s 1998/99 season! I’m your announcer today, Rick Wickwillow, and it’s shaping up to be an exciting match between Puddlemere United and the Appleby Arrows!”

“Are they always so bloody chipper?” Melanie complained as she pushed her sunglasses up her nose and looked around the stands. 

“They aren’t when you’re not hungover,” Kara said, glancing over at her with a smirk. “You do know that we’re invited to the party after the match as well, don’t you?”

“Yes… and in my defense, I hadn’t intended on going out last night. Well, staying out, at least. I was meeting up with a co-worker and ran into Luke Carpenter from Puddlemere. It started out as reconnaissance, then turned into perhaps a dash of sabotage, but then…”

“He sweet talked you out of your knickers and didn’t have hangover this morning, hence your plan backfired,” Kara finished for her. Melanie frowned. 

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “Though I have to admit… he’s not a bad romp…” Kara just chuckled as she turned back to the match.

“This seat taken?” 

Looking over, Kara was surprised to see Percy Weasley standing there, pointing at the open chairs next to her, and a man that looked vaguely like him standing just behind him staring out at the pitch. 

“Percy,” she exclaimed, sitting up. “Not at all. Have a seat.” Percy smiled appreciatively and sat, looking over at the man. It was then that Kara realized it was his brother George. She nearly didn’t recognize him with his long hair pulled back in a low ponytail, his face covered in a slight beard. “And… George…” Melanie whipped her head over to look at the two, sliding her sunglasses off. They hadn’t seen either since the battle.

“Fancy seeing you here, Watkins. Thought you hated quidditch,” George said as he sat, his eyes still fixed on the pitch.

“Never miss any of Emmie’s matches,” Kara replied, a bit shocked by the brusqueness in his voice. Apparently, Percy heard it as well, shooting his brother a look that clearly said to “behave.” “Especially not her first one on first string.”

“Been eager to see how she does,” George said, leaning forward a bit on his knees, his blue eyes scanning the pitch. “She was a hellion on the pitch at Hogwarts. Sure she’s only gotten better.” Kara nodded and met Percy’s eyes.

“Didn’t know you were Arrows fans,” she said cautiously, wondering just how the Weasley brothers got box seats. The tickets were expensive, though players got a handful that they could give away at each match. Emmie had gifted Kara and Melanie with theirs while her parents were in the box next to them.

“Oh, ehm… Oliver sent us tickets,” Percy said. “Thought it might do George some good to get some fresh air.” Kara could see a clear grimace come over George’s face. Of course, they knew about Fred. Everyone knew about Fred. Kara had even gone with Emmie to the funeral. He had dropped to the ground, wailing like a banshee in the middle of the service. Only Emmie had gone up and dropped to her knees next to him, comforting him while everyone else - herself included - watched on awkwardly. 

“Oh… I didn’t know that you… that he…”

“I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable,” Percy said calmly. “I know things are tense with Mac and Oliver at the moment, but I don’t see why that should mean that things should be tense with us.” George snorted.

“He hadn’t spoken to either of us for over a year until he suddenly reached out a week or so ago,” George said. “Not sure why Percy’s acting like they’re best friends again.” Percy frowned as he turned to George, his mouth open to likely rail into him.

“AND HERE COME THE ARROWS!”

Kara and Melanie started cheering as the team flew out in their light blue and black robes.

“I see her! There she is!” Melanie said, pointing at a figure with a strawberry blonde pony-tail somewhere in the middle of the group.

“Always thought Mac looked good in blue,” George commented. Kara raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to the pitch as the crowd continued to cheer, now chanting “Arrows! Arrows!”

“AND HERE ARE TODAY’S CHALLENGERS… PUDDLEMERE UNITED!”

Just as the Arrows rounded the pitch, Puddlemere flew out in formation. Kara couldn’t help as she automatically searched for Oliver, finding him at the back of the bunch, his eyes fixed on the player just ahead of him.

“When did they change the colors?” Melanie asked, sitting up. “I rather like these robes. Much better than those moldy-looking brown ones that they used to wear…”

“Guess they wanted a change after the war,” Kara said with a shrug. She really could care less about Puddlemere United.

“And it looks like our teams are getting ready for kick-off,” Wickwillow said. “The Arrows are coming into the new season with a mostly fresh line of chasers. They added Adrian Pucey and Emmie MacKenzie over the summer to captain Anthony Beauchamp, who’s coming into this season with strong stats. On the other side, Wilda Griffins is starting out her first season with Puddlemere and has been named captain…”

“Thought the commentary was supposed to be colorful,” Melanie said with a slight yawn. “Wish they’d of hired Jordan.” From the other side of Percy, George snorted a bit, agreeing.

“Though I’m sure the thought on everyone’s mind is what kind of performance we can expect from Puddlemere keeper Oliver Wood. He’s been up and down the last two seasons. Rumor has it that he may be returned to reserves if his play doesn’t improve this year…”

“Bloody hell, did you know about that?” Melanie asked, looking at Kara, then Percy and George. Kara shook her head, frowning as she saw Oliver tightly gripping his broomstick, his eyes glued to the box that the officials were carrying out to the middle of the pitch. 

They were all silent as they leaned forward, watching one of the refs wave his wand, releasing the balls. All six chasers were immediately in motion, moving towards the quaffle in a jumbled mess while the two seekers took off in opposite directions. The beaters chased after the bludgers.

“And it looks like rookie Emmie MacKenzie has gotten the quaffle for the Arrows… she is tearing down the pitch like a bat out of hell…”

“GO EMMIE!” Kara shouted, her eyes lighting up as she watched her friend weave in and out of players and carefully dodge bludgers that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. She swiftly passed the quaffle to Beauchamp and flew off as he and Adrian then passed the ball back and forth a bit.

As they neared Puddlemere’s goals, Kara found herself leaning forward as she watched them approach Oliver. He had an intense look on his face as he stared down the opposing team, not moving an inch. It was hard to tell from this distance, but it appeared that he was focused on Beauchamp and Pucey.

It looked as though Adrian was going to try and score through the right hoop, but then Emmie dropped in at the last second, catching the pass and then launching the quaffle towards the left hoop. Oliver shot over towards it, his arm outstretched, but the quaffle just barely brushed his fingertips before flying through the hoop.

The whole box cheered as Emmie shot her fist in the air, a grin on her face, then quickly turned around and started down the pitch again.

“And MacKenzie has scored the first goal for the Arrows. They now stand 10-0!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kara saw Percy clapping and smiling politely. George was still leaning over on his knees, but his eyes seemed a bit sharper, following Emmie as she flew. The corners of his mouth were turned up slightly. Sighing, Kara turned back to the match.

She wasn’t sure what to expect when the Weasleys sat next to her, but at least it wasn’t going to be a boring match. And Emmie was already proving herself worthy of first string.

Should be good.

~~~

Adrian whistled, getting Emmie’s attention. She could see him coming up on her right in her periphery and ducked another bludger, before tossing the quaffle over to him and dropping down. Finally looking up at the action, she saw him pass to Beauchamp, who then sped up. Emmie kept even with him, turning up at the last minute to catch the quaffle that he had tossed up and then sending it passed a frustrated Oliver through the middle hoop. 

A smile came over her face as she turned away, sweeping down the pitch at breakneck speed.

“Nice one, Mac!” Beauchamp shouted as he flew passed her. Taking the chance to glance around, she saw Taylor circling the match far above them, though she would duck or dive randomly to avoid the bludgers that Puddlemere sent her way.

“And with yet another goal by MacKenzie, that brings us at 80-0, Arrows. This was the rookie’s third goal of the game, bringing her even with Beauchamp in goals scored, and it looks as though she’s shaping up to be every bit the powerhouse that her brother and father were…”

While normally she was happy to be compared to Alex and her dad, she couldn’t help as a sharp pain hit her in the chest. She hadn’t seen Alex sitting with her parents when she flew out. Even though she knew that it was unlikely he would come to the match, a small part of her had hoped that he might.

Shaking her head slightly, Emmie focused back on the match, seeing an opening in their chasers’ formation. Starting to grin, she leaned closer to her broom, speeding up. She then rammed into Luke Carpenter’s side, snatching the quaffle from him and then flying off, giggling at the look of shock on his face. She passed a few times with Adrian and Beauchamp before watching as her captain threw the ball towards the far-left hoop. It seemed it was going to go through, but then a hand butted it out of the way and towards one of the Puddlemere chasers. Emmie was momentarily stunned before she swung back around. 

“And it seems Wood is finally getting into the match,” she heard the announcer say. 

“About bloody time,” she muttered to herself.

~~~

Emmie couldn’t help but grin as the team walked into Beauchamp’s flat that night to bright cheers. They had won the opening match of the season 300 to 150. While Oliver had stepped up slightly in the second half of the match, by that time, the Arrows had gotten too far ahead before Taylor beat Williams to the snitch.

However, she quickly began to think things were getting out of hand. After the fourth shot they had made her do, Emmie begged off to find some water. While she was certain that she’d survive the night, she needed a break from the firewhiskey lest Kara have to carry her home.

Breathing deeply, she leaned against the fridge in the kitchen after gulping down half a bottle of water. 

“Where’s Mac?” someone shouted. Emmie pushed off the fridge, her eyes wide, as she looked around for a place to hide. Seeing a pantry, she quickly stepped in, shutting the door behind her. She leaned her ear against it, waiting for whoever it was looking for her to pass through.

“Mac? Mac!”

She held her breath until she heard footsteps move away. Breathing a sigh of relief, she reached for the doorknob, leaning on the door. She wasn’t expecting the door to open so quickly, causing her to lose her balance and stumble out, falling into someone’s arms. 

“So sorry,” she said quickly, trying to extract herself. Emmie froze as she realized just whose arms she had fallen into. 

“It’s fine,” Oliver said, staring down at her. She quickly pushed out of his arms and straightened the front of her shirt. She kept her eyes trained on the ground in front of her, though she couldn’t help but glance at him. “Good match today. Really good match,” he said.

“Thanks,” Emmie said. “You as well.” Oliver nodded and swallowed, starting out of the kitchen. He then stopped and turned back around. 

“I, ehm, Beauchamp sent me in here for crisps,” he said, motioning towards the pantry behind Emmie.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, quickly moving out of the way and towards her abandoned bottle of water. She took another drink, careful not to look over at Oliver, though she could feel him behind her. He started towards the entry again, but stopped, sighing heavily.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “For… being a dick earlier…” Emmie looked over at him, confused. “I had a bit much to drink that night, though that’s not much of an excuse.” He was staring at her, his brown eyes earnest. 

“It’s okay. No need to apologize… we haven’t been together in… awhile,” Emmie said awkwardly. Oliver nodded. 

“How’s Alex doing?” he asked. Emmie’s eyes widened slightly as she blinked. 

“Ehm… He’s been better,” she said. “We don’t talk much, but Mum said he’s still going to his appointments.” Oliver nodded.

“They know any more about when he’ll play again?” he asked. Emmie shook her head.

“No… not really,” she said. 

“Next time you see him… tell him I said hi,” he said. 

“Alright,” Emmie replied. He nodded one final time before turning and walking out. Emmie let out the breath she had been holding, shaking her head slightly. She then quickly walked back out into the party.

“MAC!”

She grimaced slightly as she heard Fincher shouting at her. He and Beauchamp had been getting into the firewhiskey a bit much and were part of the reason she had been hiding in the pantry. She pasted a smile on her face as she made her way back to the team, noticing that Marcus Flint had joined them sometime while she was gone.

“Where were you hiding?” Fincher asked, throwing an arm around her shoulders. 

“Just getting some water,” she said, smiling slightly as she looked around. “Good to see you again, Flint.”

“You too, Mac. Good job today,” he replied, smiling at her. 

“Ready for the next round?” Beauchamp shouted boisterously.

“Ehm… sure,” Emmie said, smiling. She took a deep breath, hoping that she would survive the party with the amount of shots Beauchamp was feeding her. Beauchamp started to pass shots around, laughing loudly. Emmie stared at hers a moment when the others took theirs.

“If you’re quick about it, you can toss it over your shoulder and they won’t notice,” a voice said. Emmie looked over, seeing Marcus leaning down towards her ear. She glanced around the group and then quickly tossed it over her shoulder, before smiling in gratitude.

“Thanks,” she said softly as she handed the shot glass back to Beauchamp. Marcus just shrugged as he sipped at his beer. 

“Figured you’d need it to survive a party with Beauchamp,” he said softly. “Had a few too many with him before. Hangovers are the worst.” Emmie chuckled. “Saw you come out of the kitchen just behind Wood earlier… how’d that go?” Emmie looked over at him, her eyes slightly wide. She then sighed and shrugged.

“About as awkward as you’d expect,” she said. “But he apologized… for last time. Not sure why, though. Not like we’re still together or anything… he can snog who he wants.” She grimaced slightly as she looked down at the floor, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the wood floor. 

“Still. Sure it’s not fun seeing it and all,” Marcus said, glancing around the party. He saw Oliver with the rest of the Puddlemere team in a corner, though Luke Carpenter was watching them with a suspicious look. Oliver was staring glumly at the floor, sipping at a beer as Luke bent over to say something to him. The keeper just shrugged half-heartedly before taking another sip.

“Gotta learn to get along somehow,” Emmie said, looking over at the other team. Just as she did, Luke started to look back at her, causing her to look away - and straight into the eyes of Marcus Flint.

“Surely if you can learn to stand and have a decent conversation with me, then you can learn to survive the same party as your ex,” he said, a smile small on his face. Emmie found herself smiling in response and nodding.

“Yea, I suppose you’re right,” she said. She glanced at his drink, noticing that it was nearly empty. “Can I get you another beer?”

“How about we go peruse the options together?” Marcus asked.

“Sure…”


	10. Journey to Past Relationships

Emmie sighed as she threw the last of her gear into her bag and stood, pulling it up to her shoulder. She looked over, seeing Fincher had just finished up as well.

“Ready?” he asked. She smiled and nodded, then glanced over, seeing Adrian was still there though everyone else had left. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt the urge to invite him along. Perhaps it was in the spirit of team camaraderie - she felt bad for the few slight tiffs she had inadvertently started before and wanted to try and make amends in some way. Though another part of her wanted to do it because she was curious to know more about Flint. Surprisingly, she had found herself enjoying her time with him at the after party though couldn’t bring herself to reach out to him directly.

Fincher sensed what she was going to do and started shaking his head, but she had already turned to the chaser.

“Say, Pucey. You doin’ anything?” she asked lightly. He stopped packing up and glanced at her, not expecting her to address him.

“Ehm… no,” he said cautiously.

“Come have dinner and some drinks with me and Fincher?” she asked. Adrian looked over at Fincher, who quickly stopped shaking his head. He could tell the keeper wasn’t keen on the idea, but he was curious. 

“Sure,” he said, straightening up. Emmie smiled and turned to Fincher. 

“Let’s go,” she said, grinning. 

“Fine…” he said with a sigh.

Not long after, they were walking into the Witches’ Brew, Fincher and Emmie waving at the owner before settling at their usual table. 

“You come here often?” Adrian asked, glancing around at the cheery decor. It very much seemed to be a place where the Hufflepuffs would hang out. 

“Yea, suppose you could say that,” Emmie said as a witch walked over and put down two pints in front of Emmie and Fincher.

“The usual?” she asked, glancing at the two. They nodded. She then turned to Adrian. “What can I get you, love?”

“Ehm… same as them, I suppose,” he said. She smiled and walked off. “What did I just order?” Emmie chuckled as Fincher wore an amused smile.

“Nothing mad. Just burger and fries. A pint of their pale ale,” she said, reaching for her glass. Adrian seemed relieved.

Soon enough, the witch was back with his own pint and three plates of food that she placed in front of the players.

“Caught the latest match. Brilliant,” she said before walking off. Adrian glanced around the pub more closely, taking opportunity of the time that Emmie and Fincher’s mouths were full to study the place. He saw a line of quidditch jerseys up on the wall, Emmie and Fincher’s included. He then recognized those from a few of the other Hufflepuffs that had been in the League. 

“How did you find this place?” he asked, turning back to them.

“Owner is a friend of the family,” Fincher said, his mouth full. “Was Hufflepuff too.” 

“That would explain the jerseys,” Adrian said with a small smile as he reached for fry. 

“Just about,” Emmie said with a smile. She and Fincher began chatting about their friends while Adrian silently ate, listening and taking in everything. Even though they had been in different Leagues, it seemed the two had remained close after school. And that Fincher had maintained his big brother/bodyguard act. Though Emmie seemed to fight it a bit more than she had at school. 

In a way, it was refreshing to be spending time with the two. He had always been a bit jealous of the Hufflepuffs with their unabashed loyalty to each other. There were no games or manipulations with them like in Slytherin. No wondering what the other’s ulterior motive was. It wasn’t as though he thought other Slytherins untrustworthy. More so that they kept a lot to themselves, so you never really were sure just what was going through their heads.

In that regard, Emmie and Fincher were open books for the most part. Though he knew that there were still things they didn’t like to talk about. It was obvious every time someone mentioned Alex MacKenzie or Oliver Wood around Emmie. Sure, lately she was getting better at playing it off. But he could always see the tension in her jaw. The sharp pain in her green eyes. 

While he was curious to know more, he also knew well enough to tread lightly there. 

“You see Percy and George Weasley at the match?” Fincher asked, bringing Adrian out of his thoughts.

“Yea. Hadn’t spoken to either since… well….” Emmie stopped speaking as she looked down at her plate. “Sent a few owls to George, but he never replied before. Though he did send one this week. Planning to pop over to visit after practice tomorrow.”

“That’s good,” Fincher said. “Hopefully he’ll open the shop up again.”

“You hate that place,” Emmie said, a smile on her face as she looked over at him.

“I hate when people use pranks from the shop on me,” he said. “Parks and Whitshire were frequent visitors.” Emmie chuckled.

“That dung bomb they hid under your bed was classic,” she said. She looked over, seeing Adrian’s confused look. “Parks, Whitshire, and Fincher share a flat.” 

“Ah,” he replied. That made sense. 

“Swear they’ll never grow up,” Fincher griped. 

“Does keep you on your toes,” Emmie said, her eyes twinkling. 

“Just be glad that Kara is sensible. Much rather have her as a roommate,” Fincher continued.

“Because she’s sensible or because of something else?” Emmie asked, an eyebrow raised. Fincher’s face turned slightly red.

“Because she’s sensible,” he said obstinately. “Don’t have time for… other things…” Emmie just laughed harder. “Oh, shut it. You’re no better! I know that Kara’s been after you to go out with Karl at least once!” Adrian tuned into the conversation a bit more. This was getting interesting.

“Please, we both know that Karl and I would never work out,” Emmie said, popping a fry into her mouth. 

“You never know if you don’t at least try,” Fincher pushed. “‘Sides we all know that he’s been waiting in the wings even before-” Fincher stopped speaking as his eyes went wide. “Right, sorry.” Adrian looked over at Emmie, gauging her response.

There was a slightly strained look on her face, but it slid off easily. 

“No need to tiptoe around it anymore, I suppose. Witch Weekly certainly likes to bring it up,” she said, taking a drink. “Wickens is right. I need to get used to it until some other drama takes over. Or he finally learns discretion and stays out of the gossip columns…” 

Adrian felt this was as good a time as ever to dive in. Besides his own curiosity, Marcus had mentioned he wondered about what had made the ever golden couple finally call it quits.

“Whatever happened with you and Wood? Seemed like you were bloody perfect together in school,” Adrian asked casually. Fincher frowned at him, though Emmie just shrugged and started toying with her fries.

“We weren’t perfect. Obviously,” she said, looking up at him. “Things changed.” She looked down at her drink, obviously going somewhere in her thoughts. Adrian remained silent, allowing Emmie to take her time.

~~~

_Emmie rushed into the flat, looking around frantically. She had been at reserves practice when she got the owl from Weathers. They were nearly on first-name basis by this point. Every time Oliver was late or didn’t show up, he’d send her a message, asking if she knew what was going on or could go check on the keeper. He had been back at practice about a month and a half now but seemed to still be struggling with showing up._

_Emmie knew it was too soon for him to go back after Ryan’s death, but Oliver had insisted that everything was fine. They all knew it wasn’t, but that didn’t seem to matter to him._

_“Oliver!” she shouted, her heart racing. She had wanted to stay over last night - if anything to make sure that he had actually made it to practice that morning - but he had told her not to. He was going to stay in and would be fine without her baby-sitting him. She couldn’t lie - the venom in his voice stung a bit - but she knew that the most important thing right now was to allow him some space. Granted at this rate, she was worried they would need to stage some sort of intervention soon. Her, Weathers, and his parents along with their other friends._

_She didn’t see any sign of him in the living room or kitchen, so steeled herself to go into his room. She wasn’t sure what she would find. Hopefully it would just be Oliver, sleeping off another hangover. She didn’t want to think about the two times she had found women’s panties - that didn’t belong to her - in the piles of dirty clothing on his floor. She had shoved them under his bed and told herself that it was just the grief. That this wasn’t Oliver’s new normal._

_She didn’t want to even think of the other possibility. That this would be the day she found he had succeeded in drinking himself to death._

_Stopping in front of his bedroom door, she paused a moment before knocking. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she banged her fist against the door._

_“Oliver?” she shouted. There was no response. She knocked again. “Oliver! I’m coming in!”_

_Emmie then pushed the door open, seeing that he was (thankfully) alone in bed, though she couldn’t tell if he had his shorts on or not. Swallowing hard, she walked over and bent down, relief flooding through her when she found he was breathing. She then gently shook him._

_“Oliver, wake up,” she said. There was groan. “Come on, you need to get up.”_

_“Too early,” he moaned, his eyes still closed._

_“It’s 4 pm,” she replied. Oliver then rolled over, squinting his eyes as he looked up at her, almost as though he were confused at her presence. Emmie glanced around the room, taking in its messy state. She told herself that she wasn’t looking for tell-tale signs, though she knew that she was. He didn’t know that she had seen the others._

_There were a few empty bottles strewn about the clothes. Her eyes then fell on the note on the nightstand. Sucking in a quick breath, she turned away, bringing her hand to her forehead._

_“What are you doing here?” Oliver asked gruffly._

_“Weathers was worried when you didn’t show up this morning. Sent me to check on you,” she said, her voice slightly strained. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing he was now sitting up, his legs over the side of the bed as he rubbed his face. He then saw the note and tried to quietly push it under his pillow. “I already saw it.”_

_Oliver stared at her as she turned around to face him._

_“We need to talk about this,” she said, frowning. Her heart was pounding. She didn’t want to talk about it, but it was clear that Oliver wasn’t improving. He was getting worse. And she worried how bad it could get if someone didn’t step in._

_“What’s there to talk about?” he asked, his voice weary as he stared at the ground. She could see a flicker of guilt there, though it quickly turned into the vacant expression he wore more often than not._

_“You. This,” she said softly motioning around the room. “This isn’t you, Oliver. If you would just tell me-”_

_“There’s nothing to talk about,” he snapped, now scowling at her. “My brother died.”_

_“I know, but if you would just let me help-”_

_“What could you possibly help me with?” he asked, laughing harshly. Emmie stopped walking towards him, the words stinging. “There’s nothing you can do. How could you even begin to understand what I’m going through?”_

_“I think I have a fair good idea,” she said._

_“What? Because of Diggory?” he asked with a snort. “You don’t. Your brother is still out there playing quidditch. Fighting fit. Mine is buried in the ground.” He reached for a half-empty bottle on his nightstand and took a large swig._

_“But if you would just… just… talk to me! To us! Let us in! There are a lot of people who want to help you! Not just me!” she shouted, taking a step towards him. He laughed hollowly._

_“No one can,” he said, a bit softly this time. He then looked back at her, a flurry of things flying across his face before he looked away. “I think it’s time we were honest. This isn’t working.”_

_Emmie felt the breath leave her. Sure, she was hurt. That he was pushing her away. That he had cheated. But she told herself that it was just part of the process. That at some point he’d come out of it. And that it didn’t have to be the end of them._

_“I… but… please don’t do this, Oliver,” she whispered. He closed his eyes, refusing to look at her._

_“Stop, Emmie. I don’t need you hovering over me. Smothering me,” he said firmly. “Just… go.” Emmie shook her head._

_“No. I’m not leaving you. Not like this,” she said, the tears already forming in her eyes. “I refuse.”_

_“It’s not your choice,” he said, his eyes still closed. “Get out.”_

_“No-”_

_“GET OUT!” he shouted, standing and throwing the bottle against the wall, shattering it. Emmie jumped, staring at the wet spot on the wall and then looking back over at him. Gasping she then ran out of the room, fighting off her tears._

_After she had gotten home, she decided perhaps he just needed time to himself. At least that’s what she told herself. She stayed away for a week before she tried to talk to him again. There was no answer at the door, and he had changed the locks._

_She waited a few more days before going back. But this time, she didn’t even knock, clearly hearing what was going on inside the flat. She had backed away, staring at the door in shock. She had deluded herself, thinking that perhaps he would come around. That he hadn’t meant what he said._

_That was the moment she realized that they truly were over._

~~~

“We just… grew apart,” Emmie said, looking over at Adrian as she pushed away the memories. “And… he was going through some things… I couldn’t help him.” 

Adrian frowned slightly, sensing it was a lot more than that from what he had read in the papers. He knew that his brother had died, but many people had died in the war. They didn’t all react the way Wood had. And Wood’s brother had died nearly two years ago. It was about time he came out of it, in his opinion. Granted, he had never lost a sibling.

“But it was years ago,” Emmie said with a small sigh. “No use in dwelling.” She shoved a fry into her mouth before she said more. Mentioned the nights he stumbled into her flat blackout drunk. Or the nights she stayed at his waiting for him and he didn’t come home. It had taken her some time before she had even told Kara and Fincher about the times he had cheated. She wasn’t about to mention it to Adrian or anyone else. 

He didn’t need to know about that. No one did, she thought. Though she knew things were over with them, she still had some loyalty. Besides, Oliver did plenty of damage all on his own.

Adrian studied her as she reached for her glass of beer and took a drink. He then looked over and saw Fincher also studying her closely, his jaw clenched. There was something more to the story, he could tell. But he could also tell it wouldn’t do to push it.

“Well… suppose some things just run their course,” he said with a sigh. “And least we’ve got this season to focus on.” Emmie smiled and nodded, holding her glass out.

“That’s for sure. We’ve got the playoffs to get to,” she said. He clinked his glass against hers. Fincher seemed to relax, though he still kept glancing at her with a slightly worried look on his face.

Adrian couldn’t help but feel for Emmie. She had always been a bright happy person and it was clear the last few years had been rough for her between Oliver and the war. He had seen her just after her brother had been hit with the curse, wailing over him. Then her friends had rushed up and helped get Alex to St. Mungo’s, Emmie following shortly after, crying on Oliver’s shoulder. 

Adrian was sure that they’d get back together then, but he hadn’t known just how bad things had gotten between the two. Still didn’t. And it was clear that Emmie still wasn’t over it despite the time that had passed. 

While he was never that good at offering words of comfort, perhaps there was something he could do to help. He couldn’t help but think about how well she and Marcus had got on before. And how Marcus seemed genuinely curious about her. Not in the way he had been before - thank Merlin that was over. 

“We should do this more often,” Adrian said, getting Emmie and Fincher’s attention. Emmie smiled and nodded.

“Yea, that’d be fun. Fincher and I are usually out a few times a week as it is,” she replied.

“Maybe next time I could bring Marcus,” Adrian said casually, waiting for the frown to appear on Fincher’s face. The man was sure to get wrinkles at this point. Emmie thought for a moment before grinning.

“Yea, I’d like that,” she said. “Been meaning to catch up with him more.” She shot Fincher a look before he could say anything. “He seems… different…”

“He has changed loads,” Adrian said. “And he was asking about you the other day.” Emmie looked at him, slightly surprised and slightly wary. “Nothing like that. Just curious as to how you’re settling in on the team. Think he wants to reconnect a bit as well.”

“Oh, well… sure. Definitely. Bring him out next time,” she said, the smile returning. 

“That I will…” 


	11. Breaking Old Habits

Oliver squinted slightly as the sun poured through the thin curtains of the room, causing his head to hurt. He blinked a few times, letting his sight adjust before he realized that he wasn’t at his flat. Rolling over, he took in the sleeping form next to him as the memories from the night before came pounding back into his mind. Quickly, he looked away, locating his clothes on the floor and then gingerly sitting up.

Silently, he dressed and then crept out of the room, finding his shoes in the living room. He wasn’t worried about waking her up - he had long been a pro at sneaking out of flats in the morning while the inhabitants slept. Though he couldn’t help as a sharp pain hit him in the heart as his thoughts turned to Emmie. Instead, he shook his head and focused on getting out now before the woman woke up.

He had been out with Carpenter and the others last night. He knew that he shouldn’t have gone, but he had grown tired of sitting in his flat alone thinking about Emmie and Ryan. Griffiths would be sure to give him hell about it on Monday. Even if it didn’t make the columns, she had an uncanny way of knowing when he screwed up. While she meant well, it was getting annoying with her constantly riding his back about his life. 

He left the flat and made his way out of the building, wishing he had a pair of sunglasses to protect his eyes. He should apparate home to avoid being seen - Witch Weekly seemed to have spies everywhere - but he wanted to clear his head, so decided to walk instead. 

He stared at the pavement ahead of him, his thoughts returning to Emmie. She seemed to be enjoying herself at the party, stepping off with Flint and the two of them chatting and laughing alone for a bit of time. The familiar pain started in his chest, nearly beating out the pain in his head from his hangover. He knew he had to let her go but saying so and actually doing it were completely different things. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. How did one tell your brain to stop thinking about another person?

Especially when he knew that he didn’t deserve to think about her. To miss her. To wish that they were still together. He had walked away from her, after all. Pushed her away. Shouted at her to leave and not come back, and then ensured that she wouldn’t come back to him. It hadn’t been intentional, but he had done it all the same. And he wasn’t proud of it. At the time he had just wanted to forget everything. That Ryan was dead. That he was alone after pushing away all his friends and family. The alcohol had numbed the pain, but the sex had helped him forget he was completely alone. At least it had for a time. Now that didn’t even seem to work anymore. 

His heart soared for the few seconds at the party that Emmie had been in his arms, even if it was an accident. But then she had pushed out of them, trying to put as much distance between them. However, she had spoken to him and didn’t shout, so that was progress. But the pain in her eyes was still there when she looked at him. It caused his own pain to start up. He ended up leaving early and gone off to another bar where he continued drinking, trying to forget about her. 

“Fucking idiot,” he muttered under his breath as he stumbled over a bit of uneven sidewalk. He stopped walking and looked up, his eyes widening as he realized where he was. Emmie’s building was just down the street. Why had he come here? What if he ran into her again? How did he explain the fact that he was walking down the sidewalk towards her building at that time in the morning?

He backed up, intending to run home before Emmie or Kara saw him. He wasn’t sure if they would be out at this time, but he didn’t want to risk it. Of course, as he turned, he would run smack into someone, causing them to drop the load of bags in their hands. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, stepping back though he kept a firm grip on the person’s arms to stop them from falling over. He was then looking into Emmie’s green eyes, which were full of shock. 

“O-Oliver?” she said, staring up at him. “What are you doing here?” Oliver blinked as he let go of her and quickly reached down to start helping pick up her bags as he desperately tried to think of an excuse. Any excuse.

“I… ehm… I… I was… on my way to George’s place. To help,” he said, not looking at her as she started to crouch down and pick up some of the cleaning supplies that had tumbled out.

“Oh. He didn’t tell me that you were coming over too,” she said, pausing. Oliver looked over at her, seeing the confusion clear on her face. Bugger. 

“I didn’t know… I don’t have to if it’s weird,” he said quickly, handing over her bags. Emmie quickly shook her head and smiled slightly.

“It’s fine. He honestly needs all the help he can get,” she said, adjusting her grip. “If he’s ever going to get the place up and running again. I was just getting some supplies.” She motioned towards the path ahead of them. “Shall we?” Oliver nodded. 

They started walking, falling into an awkward silence. Oliver was regretting his stupid excuse. He had a raging headache and desperately needed a shower, but now he was off to the shop for a day of manual labor. It didn’t help that it was with his ex-girlfriend that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“So… how are things?” he asked, glancing at her. 

“Good,” Emmie said quickly. “Kara’s good, as are the others. I was out with her and Melanie last night.”

“Good to hear,” Oliver said. 

“How are your parents?” Emmie asked. 

“Ehm… good, I suppose. We don’t… talk as much… anymore,” he admitted. 

“Ah… well… Mum and Dad ask about you a lot,” she said.

“They do?” he asked, almost stopping. 

“Yea,” she said, still walking. Oliver caught up to her. They both fell silent again. Oliver felt like they were never going to make it to the shop, though he wasn’t too eager to get there, unsure of what he would say or do when Emmie found out that George hadn’t actually asked him to come help. Maybe he should come up with some sort of excuse to slip off before they got there.

“Here we are,” she said. Oliver looked up, not realizing how long he had been caught up in his own thoughts. 

“Right,” he said, following her to the front door. The boards had been removed, though the glass was still rather dirty. Emmie pushed it open and walked in, Oliver following. 

“George?” she called out. 

“Coming!” a voice came from the back. Emmie walked over towards the dusty register, putting the bags on the counter. Oliver stood with his hands in his pockets, waiting for George to come out. Soon enough, the tall redhead walked out from the back, his long hair pulled back, though he had shaved. The sleeves of his button-up were already rolled up. He stopped, surprised to see Oliver standing there.

“Well… look who you picked up on the way,” he said, meeting Oliver’s eyes. Oliver swallowed and looked back and forth between George and Emmie, trying to figure out how to communicate to him without setting off Emmie’s suspicions.

“Yea, ran into him on the way. Said he was coming to help too,” she said, still focused on unpacking the bags.

“Ah… right… I forgot to mention that, didn’t I?” George said, smiling slyly at Oliver. While he was relieved, he knew what that smile meant. He was going to owe the remaining Weasley twin big time. Emmie stopped unpacking and looked over at George, blinking a few times. “Sorry about that. Should we get to work?”

“Sure,” Emmie said, returning to her task. George walked over to Oliver, looking him up and down.

“Looking a bit rough,” he said softly.

“You’ve no idea,” Oliver breathed. 

“I can hold her off if you want to pop upstairs and shower. Got some hangover tonic as well,” George said. Oliver sighed and nodded, looking over at him.

“Thanks, mate,” he said softly.

“Doing it for myself. You reek,” George said. Oliver rolled his eyes and started towards the back stairs. 

“Oliver’s just going to go up and… get a few things,” he heard George explain. He quickened his pace, not wanting to take too long.

~~~

Oliver felt like a new person when he walked back downstairs after his shower and tonic. He knew he’d never fit into George’s things - and wasn’t sure he wanted to wear any of it regardless - but a few cleaning spells and his clothes no longer smelled of smoke and alcohol and weren’t wrinkly. 

He heard laughter coming from the main part of the store and stopped, seeing Emmie and George in the middle of taking care of some doxies.

“GEORGE! YOU’RE ONLY RILING THEM UP!” Emmie screeched, ducking her head as one of the creatures flew towards her. A smile came over Oliver’s face as he rolled up his sleeves and walked over to grab a bottle of doxycide. 

“I am not!” George said with a grin. For a minute, Oliver felt as though the old George was back. The tall redhead just stood back, laughing as Emmie ducked and ran around, shooting glares at him.

For a second, he found himself forgetting about everything. That he and Emmie had broken up. That anyone had died. It was just him and his friends. He decided that for the time being, he wanted to live in that fantasy.

“Think that’s about enough,” Oliver said with a chuckle as he walked over and started spraying the buggers and stunning them. 

“Thanks,” Emmie said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She glared at George one more time and then focused on getting the rest of the doxies under control. It took about an hour to get them rounded up, leaving the three of them dusty, sweaty, and slightly out of breath, though grinning at a job well done. 

“That deserves a drink,” George said, walking over to the register. 

“George,” Emmie said with warning.

“Meant water, Mac,” George said with a laugh. Oliver followed the two over where George opened a small cooler and grabbed a couple bottles of water, tossing them to the two quidditch players before pulling out his own.

“What’s next?” Oliver asked before taking a sip. George looked around the shop, taking in the shelves strewn with rubbish and broken products. There were scorch marks everywhere and more rubbish strewn about the store. 

“We should probably start with clearing out as much of this rubbish as we can. Then scrubbing everything. I don’t know how many layers of dirt and grime is on everything. But it’ll all need to be cleaned before we can start painting,” Emmie said, looking around as well.

“You think we can do all of that today?” Oliver asked, choking on his water. Emmie glanced over at him, smiling slightly.

“No, but should get a fair bit done,” she said, starting to smirk. “Though I can understand your reaction… you never were that good at cleaning.” Oliver frowned a bit.

“I’m not that bad,” he retorted. Emmie just chuckled.

“If I remember correctly, you’re pretty shite at it,” she said, putting her water down and pulling her wand back out. “I remember what your dorm looked like at Hogwarts.”

“She’s got a point,” George said, smiling at him. Oliver frowned. 

“Not two against one,” he replied. “That isn’t fair.”

“Come on. These shelves are going to clean themselves,” George said. Oliver nodded and looked around, pulling out his own wand.

“Where should we put the rubbish?” he asked as Emmie waved her wand, starting in a corner. The rubbish there came together in a neat pile. Oliver waved his own wand, working in a different part of the shop, though his pile wasn’t nearly as neat as Emmie’s. 

“Got some bags,” George said as he started working. 

“Should we make a game out of it?” Emmie asked, smiling slyly at the two men. “Loser buys drinks?”

“You’re on,” George said. Emmie looked over at Oliver.

“I’m in,” he replied, smiling at her. She returned his grin and then doubled her efforts. 

For a time, Oliver found himself laughing and getting into the spirit of the competition. It was almost as though nothing had changed. That they were back to how things used to be. Before the war. Before Ryan had died and all the others. The awkwardness from earlier melted away as the three joked and laughed, yet still managed to get a fair amount of cleaning done.

When they stopped for a lunch break, Oliver couldn’t stop looking at Emmie, suddenly rather happy with his ruse. And wishing that the day didn’t have to end. He wondered if perhaps she’d be willing to have dinner with him afterwards. Maybe if he made it into a group thing. George was a good buffer, it seemed. And it was clear that he would end up being the loser in their little game. 

The afternoon continued on and soon the sun was starting to slink lower in the sky and the shadows were growing. Oliver sat down on the steps, looking around at the shop. They had made a decent dent in the work, clearing out most of the rubbish, but there was a fair amount more to go. It would likely take a few more weeks before everything was scrubbed down and repainted. Then George would need to focus on filling the shelves. Oliver had overheard Emmie ask him if they should try and get the workshop and office cleaned up so he could get back to work, but George had shut her down, glancing towards the rooms with a painful look in his eyes.

He didn’t say anything, but Emmie had reached out and squeezed his hand, getting him to look over at her. She smiled at him and said that it was alright. They didn’t have to do it now.

But they had come to a stopping point for the day and now Oliver was wiping his hands on his jeans and trying to rehearse in his head what to say to Emmie. Perhaps they could finally talk. About everything. A bubble of hope filled him as he looked up, seeing her walk back in after they had finished carrying the last of the rubbish to the back alley.

She was smiling and laughing at something George had said. Her eyes then met his and he felt his hope begin to grow. 

Maybe everyone was wrong. Maybe he had been wrong. Perhaps they could work things through. Perhaps everything would be alright. He could get his life back together - including Emmie. 

“Suppose that’s it,” Emmie said, turning to George.

“I appreciate the help, really,” George said. Emmie walked over and hugged him tightly.

“I don’t mind at all. Just don’t be a stranger,” she said before letting him go. 

“Don’t intend to. Watkin’s gotten rather fit,” he replied. Emmie rolled her eyes as Oliver stood and walked over to him. “Thanks to you as well, Wood.”

“Don’t mention it,” Oliver said, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced back and forth between the two. “Ehm… if you’re up for it, perhaps you’d… both… like to go get something eat? Maybe a drink? I did lose, after all.” Emmie’s cheeks turned slightly pink as George grinned, knowing exactly what was going on.

“Sorry… I’ve got plans,” she said. “But next time… for sure.” Oliver nodded.

“Of course, yea,” he said.

“I’m free,” George said with a grin. “How’s about you and I get something?”

“Sure,” Oliver said, smiling. 

“This place is looking better.”

All three looked over seeing Adrian Pucey walk into the shop, looking around. 

“Thanks, mate,” George said, glancing at Oliver. The keeper was watching Emmie as she walked over to gather up her things and then walked over to Adrian. He tried to remind himself that they were teammates. That his being there didn’t mean anything more than that. But he was sure that his smile had dropped from his face.

“You ready?” Emmie asked, looking up at Pucey.

“Let’s go,” Adrian said. He glanced around the room and nodded towards Oliver and then George. 

“See you lot later,” Emmie said, waving at them before walking out with Adrian, already launching into a story about their day. Oliver sighed and rubbed his face looking around the room. He was kidding himself. Just because they had a good day didn’t mean that anything had changed or that things were fixed. They were still as broken as ever.

Suddenly, Oliver felt like being alone. He was already starting towards the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at George.

“Trust me. You want to stay here,” he said. He then turned, motioning for Oliver to follow him upstairs.

~~~

Oliver sat on the sofa, looking around the flat. The dark curtains had been taken down and it was actually fairly clean. Percy must have been by recently. He looked over towards the kitchen, seeing George fixing up two plates of leftovers and then heating them up. He walked back over, holding out one to Oliver.

“You cook now?” he asked, staring at it cautiously.

“It’s Mum’s. She dropped it off the other day,” George said as Oliver finally took the plate and started eating while George sat in the other sat and watched him as he slowly started eating. “When’s the last time you had a home cooked meal?”

“Awhile,” Oliver admitted. George nodded slowly. “This is good.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that on to Mum,” George said. He took a few more bites before putting his plate on the coffee table. “You want to talk about it?” Oliver glanced over at him.

“What?” he asked, attempting to play things off. George sighed and shook his head.

“Oh, I don’t know… the fact you were taking a morning stroll around Mac’s neighborhood and then lied about being on your way here,” George said. Oliver swallowed and put the plate down on coffee table.

“I don’t know… I was just… I was going home this morning from - not important where - and… I guess I was thinking about Emmie and… I just walked there without thinking,” he confessed. “And then I was trying to get away, but then I ran into her and said the first thing that came to mind.”

“That you were on your way here,” George finished. Oliver nodded.

“And then today… today… it went better than I thought. For a minute, it was like… nothing happened,” Oliver continued. “And I thought… maybe we could… but we can’t.”

“Gonna need full sentences from you, Wood,” George said with a sigh. Oliver looked over at him. 

“Is she dating him?” he asked.

“Pucey?” George asked with a chuckle. “No. She was just going to dinner tonight with him and Flint.” Oliver frowned. “Turns out he’s _different_.” Oliver snorted as he shook his head.

“You got any firewhiskey?” he asked, looking at George. Without a word, George stood and walked back to the kitchen, then returned with two glasses and a bottle. “It’s just… I know that we’re over. That we’re not going to get back together, but for today, I thought we could.”

“And just why can’t you get back together?” George asked. Oliver winced.

“We just… can’t. I don’t deserve another chance,” he said softly.

“Just what happened?” George asked. Oliver took a deep breath, looking into his glass.

“I was… I wasn’t there when she needed me. And then when Ryan died, I just… I lost it. I pushed her away. And I… I cheated… a few times,” he said, not looking up at him. George was silent, his eyebrows raising. That was unexpected. Though he knew enough about the rumors currently, he would have never thought that Oliver would ever cheat on Emmie.

“You… what?” he asked, at a loss for words.

“I was out of my mind at the time,” Oliver said. “It’s not an excuse but… I regret everything I did. And I know there’s no way she would ever take me back.” 

“Then seriously, you’ve got to let her go,” George said. “You should have seen your face when Pucey walked in. For a minute, I thought I was going to have to step in and keep you from killing him.”

“Easier said than done,” Oliver replied, bringing the glass to his lips. He grimaced, not realizing he had been glaring at the man.

“I know. Letting go of things is… it’s hard,” George said, staring down at his own glass. “But it’s the best for you. And for Mac.” He looked up at Oliver. 

“I know,” he said, finishing up his drink. He looked at the half-finished plate, suddenly not feeling hungry. “If it’s alright, think I’ll head home.” George stood and led him to the door.

“Coming by next weekend?” he asked. Oliver was silent a few moments before nodding.

“Yea… sure…”

~~~

Oliver walked over to the window, seeing an envelope left on the window box. He retrieved it and stood in the living room, reading over Luke’s invitation to go out that night. He considered it for a half second before tossing the letter into the bin.

He knew that things were never going to be the same with Emmie again, but he also knew that he couldn’t keep up this cycle. Getting upset every time he saw her with someone else and then going out and drinking himself into oblivion. Pick up another woman. Go home with her. Percy was right; it had to stop.

He and George were also right that he needed to find a way to let go of Emmie and the past. Sighing, he looked over to the shut door to the spare room. He figured that was as good a place to start as ever.

He walked over to the door and put his hand on the doorknob, quietly building up the courage to open it. That was the first step. He turned it and pushed it open, light flooding the room as he stood there. The floor and bed were covered in broken photograph frames and photographs. There was also various items and clothing - things that Ryan had given him over the years. Anything that had reminded Oliver of either Ryan or Emmie. It looked a bit like a secondhand shop storage room. Taking a deep breath, he walked in and stood over the bed, looking down. There were tons of photographs of him and Emmie from happier times. He then looked over, seeing those of him and Ryan. There were a few of the Wood and MacKenzie siblings together.

Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes, already feeling the tears begin to well up. He started backing away. He wasn’t ready for this. It was a bad idea. But then he stopped, his eyes falling on a large photograph of him and Ryan. He reached down and picked it up. The frame was cracked and there was no glass in it, but still the two laughed at the camera, the wind ruffling their hair. It had been taken one summer when they were working on the practice pitch at their house. Oliver had just been signed to Puddlemere reserves.

A deep pain filled his chest as he breathed deeply.

“Why did you have to go to the Alley on _that_ day?” he whispered. “Why? Why did you have to get yourself killed?” His hands began trembling as he stared at it. He knew that it was a freak thing. There was no way that his brother could have known that death eaters were going to attack that shop on that day. That he would get caught in the crossfire. 

He wiped his face and then took a shuddery breath as he pulled out his wand. He whispered a spell, watching as the frame repaired itself and the glass reappeared. He then walked out into the living room, looking around. 

He then walked over and held the photo up to the wall, whispering another spell and attaching it. He then stepped back, observing his work. 

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.


	12. A Night with Snakes

Emmie smiled as she and Adrian made their way through the pub and she saw Marcus sitting at a table, looking around nervously. He met her eyes and then seemed to smile in relief as he stood.

“Good to see you, Flint,” she said, hugging him. He swallowed as he hugged her back, not used to such contact. Especially from MacKenzie. She then let go of him and sat down, reaching for a menu. 

“How was your day?” he asked as he and Adrian sat down as well.

“Good. Spent it at George’s helping him clean up. Still a lot more to do, but we got a decent start,” she said, still looking at the menu. Her thoughts immediately turned to Oliver, though she tried to push him aside. She was still reeling over the fact that they had spent an entire day together without fighting or much tension. But she wanted to focus on the here and now - namely the fact she was having dinner with Marcus and Adrian.

“Didn’t know Wood was going to be there too,” Adrian said casually. Marcus’ eyes widened as he looked over, seeing Emmie tense up slightly.

“I didn’t either. Though I’m not surprised that George conveniently forgot to mention it. Ran into him on my way over,” she said, looking up at them. “Stop looking at me like that. It wasn’t… horrible…”

It had been better than horrible. It had actually been really good, she couldn’t help but think. She saw a glimpse of the Oliver that she had fallen in love with. And for a moment, she wondered if perhaps there was a chance for them. But just as suddenly she remembered everything. The drinking. The cheating. He was still in the gossip columns more often than not. She remembered what she had decided that day after the battle of Hogwarts.

She had used up her chances for Oliver Wood.

“Well then, so you had a decent day of cleaning,” Adrian said lightly. Emmie nodded and looked back down at the menu.

“What’s good here?” she asked. 

“I’d try the fish and chips,” Marcus suggested. Emmie glanced at him and then back at the menu.

After a bit of time, they had ordered and got their drinks. Emmie glanced back and forth between Adrian and Marcus. She still didn’t quite believe that she was sitting there, having dinner and drinks with the man who had made sixth year a living hell for her. She still wasn’t completely sure that she could trust him, but she couldn’t help but think there was something about him. Something that made her curious. She could sense a sincerity in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“So…” Marcus said nervously as she sipped her beer. “How’s practice going?”

“Good. I feel ready for the next match. Shackles and Fitzgibbons have me working on some new things,” Emmie replied. “‘Course, I can’t tell you about that.” Marcus chuckled. 

“Right… still the enemy,” he replied, though he winced slightly at the word. 

“It’ll make for a good match,” Adrian said. “Think we can say that much.” 

“I look forward to seeing it. Though certainly nervous about playing against you,” Marcus said. Emmie just smiled and sat back in her chair. 

“You should be,” she said with a grin, surprising herself. Was she really flirting with Marcus Flint right now? She completely missed the pleased smile on Adrian’s face. Marcus smiled at her and she felt a flutter of something. Merlin, had he always been this handsome? Or was she only thinking that because of his inner changes? Emmie shook her head. It was bloody sixth year all over again in a way.

“I’ve always been nervous playing against you. Even in school you were fairly wicked on the pitch,” he replied. “Fast and pulling off those fancy moves you learned from your brother.” Emmie flinched slightly at the mention of Alex but covered it with a smile. 

“Yea, he always did like to come up with crazy things for me,” she said, putting her glass down on the table. “How’s the Falcons treating you?”

“Fair enough,” Marcus replied. “Got some things in store for you lot as well.” Emmie chuckled.

“Sure, you do,” she said, rolling her eyes slightly, though she was still grinning. 

As the conversation continued, Emmie couldn’t help but realize that Marcus kept glancing at her and shifting in his chair as though he was nervous. And that ever ytime he smiled at her, she got the fluttering feeling in her stomach again.

There was something in her mind telling her not to trust it. That he had done this before. Did a good-boy act to try and get in her knickers. But another part of her silenced it. He _had_ changed. He wasn’t like he used to be. More than that, he wasn’t like Oliver. While she may be undecided about Marcus, she was certain that she could never trust Oliver again. 

As the night continued, Emmie found herself laughing harder than she had in a while. At one point, she reached over and placed her hand on Marcus’ arm without thinking and a slight shock ran through her. She quickly pulled her hand back under the pretense of reaching for her drink. 

“This is fun… we should meet up more often,” Emmie said when Adrian went to use the loo.

“Yea, I’m… glad you decided to come out tonight,” he said, shifting in his chair. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come… considering our… history…” Emmie reached for her drink.

“I meant it. It’s in the past,” she said, finding that she truly believed it. 

“But… why? If I were you, I wouldn’t ever want to talk to me again,” he asked honestly. Emmie shrugged.

“I can tell that… you’re different,” she said. Marcus looked down at his empty plate.

“I wasn’t a good person back then. Still feel like I don’t really deserve to…” he stopped talking and shook his head, smiling sadly. Emmie reached over and took his hand, causing Marcus’ eyes to widen.

“We all change. And deserve another chance,” she said. Marcus stared at her a moment.

“You really think that?” he asked.

“Yea… I do,” she replied, surprising herself a bit as she smiled. She looked down at her hand on his, feeling tingles. It was odd. She hadn’t felt anything for anyone other than Oliver in such a long time. And she nearly couldn’t believe that she was sitting here, thinking that she might be attracted to none other than Marcus Flint. 

It didn’t seem possible. Or rational.

“Perhaps we could meet up again soon… just the two of us,” Marcus said nervously. Emmie looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I mean… there’s… a lot actually that I want to talk to you about…” 

“I… yea… sure,” Emmie said. Marcus smiled brightly. 

“Good. For starters-”

“What did I miss?” Adrian asked, sitting back at the table. Emmie slid her hand back across the table quickly.

“Nothing,” Emmie and Marcus said at the same time. Adrian looked back and forth between the two. He smiled slightly. 

“Right… so, Mac… did Marcus here tell you about the time we snuck into my family’s liquor cellar and got caught?” Adrian asked. She chuckled and shook her head, glancing over at Marcus as he rolled his eyes.

“Not this one again… we wouldn’t have gotten caught if you hadn’t been a git,” he replied.

“Do tell…”

~~~

Emmie looked up at the sky, taking in the stars. She couldn’t help but smile as she thought over the night. It had been much more fun than she had expected. And she couldn’t help the small flutter that had filled her when Marcus smiled at her. She stopped and shook her head. A sense of deja vu came over her. Except this time, the good person act appeared to be real.

It was so very different from before. Mind-boggling.

“Knut for your thoughts,” Adrian said. Emmie looked over at him, noticing the curious look on his face.

“Just… tonight was fun,” she said. 

“You thought it wouldn’t be?” he asked.

“No. I mean. I wasn’t sure what to think,” she admitted. “With everything before…”

“Seemed you two got along well at the parties. Figured that you two would get on well tonight,” he replied. Emmie studied him a moment. Was Adrian Pucey seriously trying to play matchmaker for her and Marcus? This _was_ odd.

“I still, dunno… I know that he’s changed, but…”

“You’re still worried that it’s an act,” he finished for her.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she said with a sigh. “He put on the good guy act before when he wanted to…”

“Right. But… it’s for real this time,” Adrian insisted. “I’ve been with him the whole time. It wasn’t always pretty, but… he’s come a long way. And he is genuinely interested in you.” Emmie’s eyebrows rose as her heart faltered a bit. Marcus Flint was interested in her? “Not like before, I mean. He just… wants to get to know you again. Hopefully make amends and such…” 

Emmie was silent as she thought it over. He _had_ said there were things he wanted to talk to her about. That’s why he wanted to go out just the two of them. She suspected that he wanted to apologize, for starters. But she couldn’t help but wonder just what else he wanted to say to her.

“Well, well, fancy meeting you lot,” a voice said. Emmie stopped walking and looked over, seeing Luke Carpenter leaning against the wall of another pub. “I was actually just waiting on Wood to get here, if you want to stick around for a few drinks.”

“We’re good,” Emmie said, unsure of why Luke Carpenter would give two shits about her and Oliver. She barely knew him and had only stood to be around him the few times she had gone out with Oliver and Puddlemere because they were teammates. But even then, she had sensed he wasn’t any good. She was curious just what it was about him that Oliver even saw now. “Just heading home, actually. Got practice in the morning.”

“Right,” Luke said, a knowing look in his eyes. “Never knew you had a thing for snakes… I was in Slytherin, you know…” Adrian immediately frowned and started towards him, but Emmie put her arm out to stop him.

“Not worth it, Pucey,” she said, starting down the street again. Luke just laughed.

“That’s right. Run away, little Puff,” Luke said, stepping towards her. Adrian started towards him again as Emme glared. 

“Shut it, Carpenter,” she said. 

“All I’m saying is… if you need a snake to warm your bed, there are better options than Pucey and Flint,” he continued, still grinning. “Though it does confirm what I’ve always thought about Hufflepuffs…” Emmie’s nostrils flared as Adrian started to lunge for him. Emmie beat him to it by pulling out her wand and pointing it at Carpenter.

“I highly doubt that you’d be that satisfying, Carpenter,” she said harshly. “It’s usually the ones that boast the most that have the most to hide.” She glanced down and then back up. “Perhaps making up for what you’re lacking?” She raised an eyebrow as the smile fell from Luke’s face. “Lovely chat. See you on the pitch.” 

She then turned and strode down the sidewalk. Adrian glared at Luke again before following her. 

He knew she had guts, but he had never seen Emmie like that. There was most definitely a lot more to the woman than he originally thought.

“That was… different,” he admitted as he caught up to her. Emmie sighed. 

“Learned some things over the years,” she said, glancing at him. “And well… suppose you could say that I’ve long known how to handle guys like that.” 

“Right,” Adrian said. “For what it’s worth… he feels horrible about all that. Wants to apologize.” Emmie stopped walking and looked over at him.

“Why hasn’t he?” she asked.

“Just… not really something he wants to bring up at a party or in front of others,” Adrian said. Emmie nodded. That made sense.

“Suppose the war has changed us all,” she said softly. She then started walking again. Adrian followed.

“How are things with Alex?” he asked. Emmie sighed and shook her head.

“Still not talking to me,” she said. “He’ll talk to Mum and Dad. See them. But refuses to have anything to do with me. I’m about at my wit’s end, to be honest. I keep sending owls, but he doesn’t reply. I’m tempted to just… go over there myself. Force him to talk to me.”

Adrian was silent as they continued walking.

“It’s hard… trying to be there for someone who doesn’t want you there,” she finally added. Adrian’s eyebrows rose.

“You talkin’ about Alex... or Oliver?” he asked softly. Emmie stopped and looked over at him.

“Both,” she admitted. “Though… Oliver seemed… better today. Like the old times. But… I know what he’s like. He won’t change. It’s only a matter of time before he does something to hurt me again.” Adrian sighed.

“Look, Mac… sometimes you just have to realize that you’ve done all that you can and… it’s all up to them now. You’ve just got to… let it go,” he said. Emmie looked at the ground, thinking it over. He made a point. She looked up at him.

“Suppose you’re right,” she said, smiling slightly. She then looked over, seeing they were near the gate to her building. “Thanks, Pucey. For the talk and… walking me home.”

“Anytime, Mac,” he said. “And it’s Adrian, you know. Figured with all the time we’re spending together, might as well be on a first name basis.” She smiled and nodded.

“Then suppose it’s Emmie… or Mac. I don’t really care which,” she said. Adrian nodded.

“Night, Mac,” he said.

“Night… Adrian…”

~~~

“How was your little dinner date?” Kara asked. Emmie paused as she walked in the door, seeing her roommate lying on the sofa reading. Kara sat up. “You look like you’ve had a day.” Emmie rolled her eyes and disappeared into the kitchen then returned with a large glass of wine. “Oh dear… it was…”

Emmie sat in the armchair and took a long drink before speaking.

“Ran into Oliver on my way to the shop. He came along and helped,” she said quickly, deciding it was best to start at the beginning.

“Bloody hell,” Kara murmured.

“It was… nice. Like old times,” Emmie said, her look contemplative. 

“Em, do not tell me that you’re-”

“No, I’m not thinking about giving him another chance,” Emmie said, cutting her off. “Just… it’s a lot to think about. But then… Adrian showed up and Oliver got that wonky look on his face again. The one that he always got when I would talk to some other bloke...”

“And then you went out to meet Pucey and Flint,” Kara said. Emmie felt her cheeks heat up slightly as she thought back to dinner. “Emmie… what happened?” She looked over at Kara. “Do not even think of hiding anything or lying. You know I can always tell.”

“It wasn’t anything big… we had fun,” Emmie said before taking another sip of wine.

“Which one is it?” Kara asked. Emmie’s eyes were wide. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. Kara chuckled.

“It’s written all over your face, you’re starting to fancy one of them. Which one is it? _Adrian_?” Kara asked sensibly. Truth be told, she didn’t think he was half bad. Definitely easy on the eyes. And Emmie did seem to be spending more time with him. Emmie sighed and looked down at her glass, knowing that Kara wasn’t going to like what she was about to say.

“It’s… Marcus,” she said softly. Kara nearly spit out her own wine that she had been drinking.

“Flint?” she shouted. “The bloke who took advantage of you while you were under the effects of some sort of mad love potion? And then attacked you? Who only wanted to shag you?! Em - he was… horrible sixth year.”

“I know! But… he’s different,” Emmie said. “He’s… gentle. Sweet. A bit unsure of himself, actually.”

“Yea, he was like that before and it was an act to try and get into your knickers,” Kara said. “How do you know he’s not just doing it again?”

“I don’t, but… I don’t think that he is. More than that, I think Adrian is trying to push us together,” Emmie said. Kara snorted.

“And here I thought he was reasonable,” Kara said.

“He is. And he’s turning into a good friend,” Emmie countered. “Gave me some sound advice after we had a run in with Luke Carpenter.”

“SERIOUSLY EM! QUIT SKIPPING DETAILS!” Kara shouted.

“I was getting there,” Emmie replied after another sip. “Adrian walked me home and he was telling me that Marcus has changed and all. Wants to try and… make up for how horrible he was back then. And then Carpenter was outside some pub and said some nasty things.” Kara’s eyebrows raised. “I took care of it and we continued on. He asked about Alex and that led to talking about Oliver a bit. And he said that sometimes you have to realize that you’ve done enough and it’s up to the other person. That you’ve got to… let go.”

“That’s practically what I’ve been telling you all along,” Kara said. Emmie rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, that’s it,” Emmie said. Kara nodded, sitting back on the sofa. She then studied Emmie a few moments. “It’s just… after today… I’m confused.”

“How do you mean?” Kara asked. Emmie sighed.

“I mean, for a moment, I thought maybe… maybe there was chance that Oliver and I could… work things out. But then I remembered what he’s like now, and…” she stopped speaking a few moments. “And then dinner when I was talking to Marcus, I just… felt something. Something that I know is mad. I really shouldn’t fancy him at all… But then after dinner… when Adrian told me that Marcus was genuinely interested in me, there was… I was… happy about it. Which is really odd… But then I couldn’t help but think about Oliver...” She took another drink as she went silent, thinking it all over. She then met Kara’s eyes. 

“Do you think I’ll ever truly be over him?” 

Kara was silent a few moments, thinking over what to say. There had been a time when Emmie and Oliver were good together. When even she had thought there was no better match. But that had changed. And just as that had changed, perhaps Flint had also changed. She remembered how he had been at the parties. How he had gotten Emmie to relax even though Oliver was on the other side of the room. To laugh. It had been a long time since Kara had seen Emmie truly having fun and not just covering because she didn’t want to be the spoilsport. A bit of light had finally returned to her eyes.

Perhaps something with Flint might be good for her. If anything, it might get her started dating again. And Emmie did desperately need to move on from Oliver.

“I think… well… honestly, from everything that’s happened with you and Oliver…” she stopped speaking, but then sat up and fixed her eyes on Emmie. “What I do know is that… you shouldn’t dwell so much on the past that it gets in the way of something new that could be good for you.” 

Emmie stared at her a few moments and then chuckled.

“Wait, so now you think that Marcus could be good for me?” she asked slightly incredulously. Kara huffed.

“I still don’t really understand it, but the more I think about it, well, maybe it’s not such a bad thing,” Kara admitted. “Maybe… maybe you should give him a chance.” Emmie nodded, looking down at her glass. “And for Merlin’s sake, if Flint is what gets you back into the dating world, then job well done.”

Emmie chuckled, thinking it over. She hadn’t dated anyone since Oliver. Kara made a point that it could be good for her, if anything to help her put him aside and finally move on once and for all, even if nothing really came from it. She was willing to admit that she was starting to grow attracted to Marcus. That was evident from dinner. But there was still something in her mind that kept her from really trusting him. Trusting anyone, if she was being truly honest. Oliver was the last person she thought would ever hurt her, and he had. Which meant anyone was capable of it. 

Emmie wasn’t sure what to do.

She finished her wine and sat her glass on the table.

“Think I’m going to bed,” she said, standing. Kara nodded.

“Sleep on it,” she said. Emmie walked to her room, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against it and sighed.

Just what was she supposed to make of this?


	13. Turning a New Leaf... Or So...

Oliver whistled to himself as he stood in front of his locker, changing into his workout clothes. After spending the evening going through the spare room and all its memorabilia - making repairs here and there - he had fallen in bed exhausted and didn’t stir until his alarm went off. 

Despite the emotional night, he felt more rested than he had in a long time. More than that, he hadn’t had any nightmares. Or dreams at all at that matter. It was the most restful sleep he had gotten in what felt like years. Part of him felt like a new man when he quickly packed up his team bag and headed to the stadium that morning, eager to get to work.

“What’s this?” 

Oliver glanced over his shoulder, seeing Wilda standing there, a small smile but curious look on her face.

“Are you seriously here early?” she asked, starting towards her locker.

“Thought it best to get off to a good start,” he said good-naturedly, turning back to his locker and missing her mouth drop open. Oliver began whistling again as she set about to getting ready, though she couldn’t help but shoot hopeful looks his way. 

“Blimey, what’s this racket?” Carpenter said as he and Walters stumbled in next, the rest of the team just behind them. Oliver looked over, noticing the tell-tale signs of a hangover on the two chasers’ faces - Carpenter still had his sunglasses on. Though Oliver knew that all traces would be gone by the time they hit the gym. The two had gotten rather good at covering their hangovers from the coach.

“Late night?” Oliver asked, chuckling as he looked at them. Carpenter frowned as he pulled his sunglasses off. 

“No thanks to you. We waited hours for you to come out,” he replied.

“Sorry about that… had some things to take care of,” Oliver said, pulling a t-shirt on and then sitting down to pull on his trainers. Half the team stopped what they were doing, all of them looking towards Oliver. 

“What things?” Walter scoffed. “What could be more important than having a good time?”

“I was at George’s a bit. Helped him clean up the shop. Then started work on clearing out some things at my flat. Meant to send word, but guess it slipped my mind,” he said. Carpenter and Walters looked at each other and then back at Oliver. After he finished up with his laces, he stood. “See you lot in the gym.”

Wilda couldn’t help but smile after he left, happy to see the keeper in a much better mood than he had been in a while. She wasn’t sure what it was about yesterday that had helped him out, but she was grateful for it. 

“Cleaning? Wood?” she heard Carpenter say. “What the hell happened to him?”

“If it gets him blocking better, I don’t much care,” Benjy Williams said. 

“True,” Tonya added. Wilda looked over, seeing Carpenter with a confused look on his face as he finished getting ready. 

“I think I know what it is,” Walters said, some sort of realization hitting him.

“What?” Carpenter asked.

“Saw him walking with MacKenzie yesterday morning,” Walters continued, starting to smile. Carpenter stopped what he was doing, looking at the other chaser. “Suppose they’re getting back together?” Carpenter snorted.

“Fat chance of that. Saw her out on a date with Pucey last night,” he said, pulling a shirt on. Wilda frowned. 

“Think Wood knows?” Walters asked. 

“If he doesn’t, he will,” Carpenter said, winking. Wilda rolled her eyes, finishing up and then heading to the gym. She really didn’t have the patience for dealing with Carpenter that morning or any of his schemes. It was rather confusing - for all purposes he appeared to be Wood’s friend. And they were teammates. Which was why she didn’t understand why he’d want to sabotage Wood’s chances at staying on the team.

Sighing, she just shook her head and focused on training. At least that she could understand.

~~~

Oliver couldn’t help but grin as he dodged another bludger and still shot over to block the shot that Carpenter had sent his way. He tossed the quaffle to Griffiths, who had a pleased look on her face as she shot off. 

“Good work, Wood!” Weathers shouted. “Keep it up and we just might make it to the finals this year!”

Oliver adjusted his gloves, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He was finally turning things around. He could do this. He was so caught up in his own inner celebration, he didn’t notice the scowl that Carpenter sent him. He then looked up, finding it easier to follow the plays and movements of the chasers, predict where they would go. It was amazing what one good night of sleep could do, he thought.

Wilda had just gotten the quaffle and was zigzagging towards him. He still struggled to follow her, but he found himself in a place of calm that he hadn’t been in for a long time, tuning out everything around him but the chaser and the quaffle.

There. He saw it.

Just as the quaffle left her hand, he shot straight up, catching it just before it soared through the middle hoop. Wilda let out a cheer as Walters grinned at him. Luke didn’t seem so happy, though Oliver didn’t care enough to wonder why.

“Ladies and gents, dare say we got the Wood that we signed back!” Weathers shouted, surprising Oliver. The gruff coach gave out his share of compliments, but never like this. “Bring it in!” 

They all flew down to the center of the pitch, a small smile on the coach’s face as he watched Oliver.

“Alright then… good practice. Really good,” he started. “Williams, you’re doing grand, though don’t get so caught up in your tricks that you forget to watch the snitch. Griffiths, watch your right side, though good work on those goals. Walters, passing has improved, but you know what to work on. Carpenter… bit sluggish today.” Luke frowned as Weathers turned to the beaters, telling them to work more on their aim the next time they were with the beater coach. He then turned to Oliver, his smile returning. 

“Keep up the good work, Wood,” he said. “Dismissed!”

Oliver turned and started back to the locker room, thinking he wanted nothing more than a hot shower. And then maybe he’d go to George’s to talk about practice. Invite Percy over, who’d want to hear the news as well. At the back of his mind, he thought about seeing if Emmie wanted to come, but he stopped himself. While Sunday had been good, he didn’t want to push it. He had to remind himself that it took baby steps and all. Just because they had got on didn’t mean that they were suddenly friends again.

“Say… you lot hear about MacKenzie and Pucey?” 

Oliver glanced over his shoulder, seeing Luke smiling slightly as Walter gave him an odd look. 

“What?” he asked. Griffiths frowned at the tall chaser.

“You know… just that it seems they’re together now,” he said lightly. Oliver snorted. 

“They’re teammates,” he said, remembering watching them interact the night before. While he might have started to get slightly jealous, looking back he realized that Emmie had acted as she always did with the quidditch blokes. 

“Heard they were out on a date last night,” Luke pushed.

“Had dinner last night with Flint,” Oliver said. Everyone on the team just stared at him. “What? She was at the shop too. Pucey came to fetch her from there.” He sped up, pushing through the door to the locker room and going straight to his locker. 

“They looked pretty cozy last night when I saw them,” Luke continued.

“So? If that’s the case, what’s it matter?” Oliver replied, trying to push aside the old feelings of jealousy. _“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter,”_ he thought to himself over and over again. He started to get out of his practice uniform, trying to focus on how well practice had went and not listening into Carpenter speculating out loud about Emmie and Pucey. 

“Coming out with us, Wood?” Carpenter called to him as he passed by on his way to the showers.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Oliver said, suddenly finding the chaser rather grating. Merlin, why had he wasted so many nights out drinking with him?

“Your loss!” Carpenter shouted out in glee. “Meeting up with some rather fit witches from the Ministry!”

“Whatever,” Oliver grumbled, deciding then and there that it would be rather easy to pass on going out with Carpenter and Walters. 

“Just what are you getting at?” Wilda asked, crossing the room after Oliver had left. Her hands were on her hips as she glared at Carpenter.

“Everyone knows Wood’s always a good time,” Carpenter said, winking at her. Wilda just rolled her eyes. 

“You screw up his streak and I will have Coach ground you,” she warned, turning back to her locker. 

“Yea, right, Griffiths,” Carpenter said with a chuckle.

“I mean it!” 

“Keep telling yourself that!”

~~~

Oliver walked into his flat and sat his bag down, intending to send an owl right away to George and Percy. He walked over to the window, seeing that the post had come in and quickly grabbed it, going through it. There were a few bills here and there with The Evening Prophet at the bottom. Putting the rest on the table, he opened the paper, browsing through it. 

Though he knew that he should avoid it, he found himself looking at the gossip columns, finding Emmie’s name there. 

_If sources are to be believed, Arrows chasers Emmie MacKenzie and Adrian Pucey were seen out together in Diagon Alley last night, supposedly on a date. Both had no comment to the claims, which was no surprise considering how notoriously private they are. Granted one would think MacKenzie used to the limelight with her famous father and brother, not to mention her nearly three-year relationship with Quidditch Bad Boy Oliver Wood._

Oliver sighed and shook his head. It would take a while to rehabilitate his image, he knew, but he never liked it whenever Emmie got dragged into it. 

_Could this be the bud of a new romance? One only hopes that it will go better for Emmie than her last. The woman needs a good man after having to deal with Wood…_

Oliver tossed the paper down on the table, glaring at it. He knew that Emmie would hate it and likely put more distance between them if it brought on more unwanted attention. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. If it would help.

He then walked over to a desk in the corner, intending to pull out some parchment, but then stopped and looked over at the floo, deciding that would be a much faster way to communicate with George. Just as he was reaching for the floo powder, there was a knock at the door. He stopped, looking over with confusion. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

Sighing, he made his way to the door and opened it, surprised to see Luke there.

“What can I do for you, Carpenter?” he asked. 

“Thought I’d still convince you to come out,” Carpenter replied.

“Told you. Not up for it tonight,” Oliver said. Especially after Luke had continued to bring up Emmie. 

“If this is about what I said about MacKenzie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know you’re still sore about it,” Carpenter said, seeming genuinely repentant. “And… I thought after such a good practice, you deserved to go out and celebrate a bit. The old Wood is coming back.”

Oliver studied him a bit, feeling as though something was off. Though it wasn’t as though Carpenter needed much of an excuse to go out and celebrate.

“Not sure… It was just one good practice. I don’t want to ruin my streak,” he said honestly, feeling like it was a much safer bet to go to George’s.

“Come on, Wood. How long have we been friends? I promise I’ll get you home by a decent hour,” Carpenter said. “We can even ditch the birds, if you want.” 

“Still not sure,” Oliver said, running his hand up the back of his neck, though he could feel his resolve wavering a bit. Carpenter had been there for him through the worst of it. Granted most of that time he was putting a shot, a beer, or a whiskey in his hand. But still… there had been the times when he sat and listened through Oliver’s drunken tirades over Emmie. 

“Seriously, Wood. You know I’m good for it,” Carpenter said. Oliver sighed and shook his head. He knew he wasn’t going to get the chaser to back down, so decided the best course was to go for a couple drinks and then beg out. With luck, he’d still have time to get to George’s afterwards.

“Fine,” he said, stepping out of the flat and then locking the door with his wand. “Let’s go.”

~~~

Oliver chuckled to himself as he sipped at his beer, watching as Walters tried and then failed to hit on a woman at the bar. He came back to their table, a bit crestfallen.

“Better luck next time, mate,” Carpenter said, holding a shot glass out to him.

“Yea, yea,” Walters said before taking it. Carpenter then looked to Wood, holding one towards him.

“I’m good,” Oliver said, waving it off. And he was. He was proud of himself so far. He was only on his second beer and was about ready to head out. 

“Come on, one isn’t going to kill you,” Carpenter said. “Unless you’ve gone pansy and can’t handle your liquor anymore.” Oliver’s jaw tensed, fighting off the urge to snatch the shot from Carpenter’s hand. He didn’t want to ruin everything. 

“Really. Shouldn’t,” Oliver said. “Need to head out soon anyway.” 

“See? If you’re about to go home, you should do one for the road,” Carpenter said, pushing the glass towards him. Oliver stared at it a moment and then finally gave in, reaching for it. What was the harm in just one? He was leaving soon.

An hour later, Oliver had completely forgotten that he was supposed to head to George’s, roaring in laughter at some stupid joke that Carpenter had just finished up. A few players from other teams had now joined them and there was a flock of beautiful women hovering about. A redhead was making eyes at Oliver and he smiled at her, but then stopped, thinking that her eyes weren’t as beautiful as Emmie’s.

He shook his head, looking down at the glass of firewhiskey in his hand. When had he switched to firewhiskey? He was supposed to be sticking to beer. And wasn’t there somewhere he was meant to be? Right. George’s. He had managed to send a patronus telling Percy to meet him there while he was on the way to the pub with Carpenter. How long ago had that been? Wasn’t it just a few minutes ago?

“So, Wood… tell us. What do you _really_ think about this whole MacKenzie-Pucey business?” Luke asked, wrapping his arm around a brunette witch that had cozied up to him, sipping some fruity cocktail. Oliver stared at him, blinking slightly to try and clear up his head. Had he already had so much to drink that things were looking fuzzy?

“Still don’t think they’re dating, but what’s it matter anyway?” he said, slurring slightly. “I mean… she can bloody date who she wants…”

“Or shag,” Luke said with a laugh. Oliver frowned at him. Emmie wasn’t like that. As far as he was aware, he was the only guy she had ever been with. But then again, it’s not like he had kept tabs on that since they broke up. 

“Whatever,” he said, bringing his glass to his lips and then stopping, a sliver of reason sneaking in. He needed water. He put the glass down and reached for a glass of water sitting nearby, downing about half of it as he tried to shake off a bit of his drunkenness.

“Pretty sure they were off to shag when I ran into them last night… Merlin, had I known MacKenzie had a mouth on her, I’d of bagged her ages ago,” Luke said with a laugh. Oliver frowned at him.

“Pretty sure she’d never go for you,” he said without really thinking.

“Why’s that? She’s got a thing for snakes and I’m a perfectly good snake. Wasn’t there something about her and Flint at Hogwarts?” Luke countered. 

“You weren’t there. It wasn’t like that,” Oliver said, drinking more water. He was beginning to think that he needed to get out of there. He was too drunk to apparate, so would have to stumble his way home. He’d apologize to Percy tomorrow. 

“What? They weren’t snogging or fucking on prefect rounds?” Luke said with a laugh as he downed another shot. 

“No. She’s not like that,” Oliver said, starting to bristle. 

“Would have been if I were a prefect,” Luke replied. Oliver started to lunge for him but found himself being held back as Luke laughed loudly.

“Knock it off,” he heard someone say. He looked over, seeing Wickens, the beater from the Arrows suddenly next to him. “Mind you, those are my teammates you’re talking about.”

“Right… tell us… MacKenzie just as fit with her clothes off?” Carpenter said, leaning towards him.

“Seriously, shut it, Carpenter,” Wickens said, glaring at him. Oliver looked back over, feeling his own anger starting to build up. 

“Fine. Keep it to yourself. I’ll find out soon enough,” Carpenter said. “Sure it won’t take much to get her in-”

Oliver wasn’t completely sure what happened when he tried to think back. All he knew is that one second he was sitting at one side of the table and the next, the table was gone, and he had Carpenter pinned to the ground, punching his smug face as though his life depended on it. 

There was shouting and screaming. And hands trying to pull him away, but he just shoved them aside. 

“DON’T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT, YOU MOTHER FUCKER!” he shouted as he returned to punching Carpenter. 

Finally, he felt someone dragging him back and up to his feet. He glanced over, seeing an irate Wickens glaring at Carpenter, then to the other side, seeing an irate Percy glaring at him. He looked back, watching as Carpenter pushed himself up into a seated position, laughing though his face was bloodied up. 

“Feel better, Wood?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Oliver tried to lunge towards him again but found that Wickens and Percy had him in a vice grip.

“Get him out of here,” Wickens said to Percy.

“Gladly,” Percy said, managing to drag a drunk and shouting Oliver away.

“Just what are you getting at?” Walters said, helping Carpenter up. “He’s our fucking teammate!”

“Yea, but he’s no better than the rest of us, is he?” Carpenter said, his gaze turning cold as he watched Percy shove Oliver out the door while he wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“Fucking hell. Are you still sore about _that_?” Walters asked. “Thought you liked playing chaser.”

“Fucking git. It’s more than that,” Carpenter said, starting to make his way to the bar.

“What? Because suddenly Wood became the star player? You need to get over it, mate,” Walters said. Carpenter whirled back around, glaring at the slightly shorter player and getting into his face.

“Do not tell me what I need to do, _mate_ ,” he seethed. Walters backed up, his hands in the air. Carpenter then turned and stalked towards the bar as Walters looked around at the mess. He then looked up, seeing Wickens frowning as he spoke to the other Arrows beater, Martins. The two glared at Carpenter and then left. 

“THAT’S IT! I’m banning the whole lot of you!” the barkeep shouted as he stormed over and took in the overturned table and chairs. “GET THE FUCK OUT!”

“Gladly,” Walters muttered, leaving. 


	14. Same Old, Same Old

“Ready, Mac?”

Emmie looked up from the bench, smiling at Fincher as she tightened her shin guard and then moved on to the other.

“You going to ask me that every match?” she asked with a chuckle. “You know the answer.” Fincher just laughed and shook his head.

“Still, only your third pro match,” he replied. “Just checking…”

“At least you aren’t asking if I had breakfast,” she said, rolling her eyes slightly as she stood and hopped in place a bit, loosening up before they hit the practice pitch for warm-ups. 

“You did eat, didn’t you?” Beauchamp asked. Emmie stopped and looked over at him, slightly annoyed. She then caught the smile on his face and laughed, starting to stretch out a bit. She was eager to get into warm-ups. And then the match. They were playing the Kestrals, which had pretty much all of their team returning after the war. They had been decent before and would likely put up a good fight. No matter. She was ready. 

“Eager, aren’t you?” Taylor quipped as she fastened her last arm guard on and started reaching for her gloves. 

“Been waiting years for first string, can you blame me?” Emmie replied. 

“Suppose not, though….”

Emmie stopped stretching and looked over at the seeker, watching as a mischievous glint came into her eye. 

“Heard from a little birdy that you’ve got a date,” Taylor finished. Emmie’s eyes went wide as she turned towards Adrian. He and Kara were the only ones that really knew about her and Marcus. They hadn’t even set a time to meet yet. Bloody Adrian and his bloody big mouth.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said quickly, his hands up in the air and eyes wide.

“Knew it! You two _are_ dating!” Taylor shouted in triumph. The rest of the team turned to the two chasers, who were standing there slightly dumbfounded. Where had that come from, she thought. Just because they had met up with Marcus the other night?

“Ehm… what?” Emmie asked, confused. 

“Yea… what?” Adrian added, equally as confused.

“Been all over the columns,” Taylor said, starting to look a bit unsure of her declaration. “You went on a date last weekend… yea?”

“No… we didn’t,” Emmie said carefully, relieved that no one knew about Marcus. She was still trying to figure that one out herself and wasn’t about to proclaim that she was dating anyone.

“Just had dinner and drinks with Flint,” Adrian added. “Definitely not a date, no offense, Mac. I’ve got a girlfriend.” Emmie kept her face straight, though a knowing look came into Taylor’s eyes. She quickly shook her head and the seeker turned back to her locker, not wanting to set off anyone else.

“Wait… so you two aren’t dating?” Wickens asked.

“No,” they said at the same time, slightly exasperated. He glanced at Martins, his eyebrows raised slightly, though the other beater sighed and shook his head.

“Then that whole fight last night was over nothing,” he replied. “Well… suppose it’s not really nothing… but he was right about Mac and Pucey…” Emmie frowned.

“What fight?” she asked, taking a step towards him. Wickens punched him in the arm, now glaring at him. Just what exactly did the two know? A fight? With whom?

“Oh nothing,” Martins said, bending down to get his broom.

“What fight, Martins,” Emmie repeated, a harsh edge coming into her voice.

“Well… Wood and Carpenter got into it at a pub,” he said nervously. Emmie opened her mouth to reply, but Beauchamp beat her to it.

“Typical Wood and Carpenter, stupid gits,” he said. “Whatever it is, doesn’t matter at the moment. Focus on the match and nothing else. You can worry about a stupid, bloody fight later.” He glanced towards Emmie before frowning at Martins. They had just regained a sense of peace and the last thing he wanted was for something to come up that would throw off the rookie. Or anyone on the team, for that matter.

“Right, yea,” Martins said. Emmie turned back to grab her own broom, pushing it out of her head. The captain was right. It didn’t matter. She could think about it later. All that mattered now was beating the Kestrals. 

~~~

Emmie flew through the air, ducking a bludger as she passed to Beauchamp and then searched for Adrian, knowing the next pass to come her way would be from him.

Once they had hit warm-ups, it was easy to keep focused. There was nothing like the rush of being on a broom in her mind and she couldn’t help but smile slightly as she ducked under one of the Kestrals chasers, surprising him. 

She banked right, shooting towards the outer edge of the pitch, still watching Adrian out of the corner of her eye. When she heard his whistle, she quickly got into position, ramming a different Kestrals chaser in the process, then caught the quaffle just before shooting it towards the right hoop. 

The crowd cheered as it sailed through.

“MAC! MAC! MAC! MAC!” 

She quickly turned and started back towards the other side of the field, nodding to acknowledge that she had heard Beauchamp’s instructions, her focus zeroing in on their center chaser as she leaned forward and sped up. Though for a split second, she allowed herself a small swell of pride at hearing the crowd cheer her name.

Smoothly, she flipped upside down and edged up just underneath the chaser, keeping an eye on where she was going as well as the chaser just above her. He looked down and gave a start, dropping the quaffle in the process, which she snatched up. Speeding up, she passed just in front of him and started back towards the other end of the pitch, a grin on her face as the wind whipped her ponytail behind her.

It was the third hour of the match, but she barely felt winded, buoyed by the fact that she had already scored four goals and was looking to easily break her scoring record from the last match. And hopefully pull off a few of the new things she had been working on with the chaser coach. 

And this was only the beginning of the season. There was so much more to come.

~~~

“GO EMMIE!” Kara shouted as she jumped to her feet, watching as she scored another goal in spectacular fashion, the crowd losing it. Even Percy stood to his feet, clapping though he only wore a small smile. She was surprised to see him there, knowing he wasn’t one to take off days from the Ministry. She had barely gotten off for the match herself but was grateful for the company as Melanie said she wouldn’t make it. Seemed Emmie had sent the Weasley brothers a couple of box passes as well as herself.

“YEA! THERE YA GO, MAC!” George shouted from the other side of Percy. 

The three then sat as George reached for his beer, his eyes glued to the game. 

“Good to see she’s not letting the news get to her,” George said. Kara chuckled, picking up her own beer.

“Please, she stopped reading those stupid columns ages ago. And she’s not dating Pucey, though likely you both know that,” she replied before taking a sip from her own, assuming that was the column he was referring to. She hadn’t worried about telling Emmie, knowing that it wasn’t true and not wanting to set her off before the match. Both brothers looked at her in confusion, though Percy then whipped his head over to glare at George. “Oh, good lord, what is it this time?”

“You didn’t hear about the fight?” George asked, leaning passed Percy to look at her. Kara turned to look at him, not understanding.

“What fight?” she asked. George looked at Percy, who just sat back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of him, his lips pursed. 

“You didn’t tell them?” George asked. Percy shook his head. “I wasn’t there, but Percy had to go drag Wood’s ass home from a pub that he’s now been banned from.” 

“Again… what fight?” Kara asked, forgetting the match for a moment. The Arrows were up by 80 points anyway. George sighed.

“So, Wood was supposed to come over to mine last night, but after he was late, Perce went out to look for him. Arrived just in time to see him whaling into Carpenter,” he said. Kara frowned. She had thought the two were thick as thieves, though from what Emmie said, it sounded as though the chaser was a royal class pain in the ass. “Drunk out of his mind.” Kara looked at Percy, as if to confirm the story. He gave a slight nod.

“Bloodied up his face a fair bit,” he said with a sigh. “Took me forever to get him to calm down.” 

“What the hell were they fighting about?” she asked.

“Mac,” Percy said, his eyes still on the match. Kara’s mouth dropped open. “Apparently Carpenter said some things to… insult her character, and Oliver lost it. He was so out of it that I couldn’t really get the full story out of him.” George snorted.

“More than lost it from what the paper said today,” he replied. “He’s been suspended for the week.” Kara turned back to the pitch, watching as Emmie deftly passed to Adrian. If she had heard, she had to commend her for not letting it affect her game. 

“He was making progress. And then he has to go and, and… gah,” Percy bellowed. Kara looked back at him, not used to seeing the normally calm bloke get so obviously frustrated. 

“Look, Perce. I get it. I thought he was getting better too, but maybe it’s just time to recognize a lost cause when you see it,” George said, his voice harsh. 

“I refuse to believe that he’s a lost cause,” Percy said, frowning at his brother. “I didn’t give up on you.”

“Yea, well, Wood’s not your brother, is he?” George replied before taking another drink of his beer. 

“No. His brother is dead,” Percy said as he continued staring at him. “His _only_ brother.” George grimaced slightly but kept his gaze on the match. Kara sighed and looked back at the game, not wanting to dive into the middle of that. She had been through enough of her own sibling spats to know it was dangerous territory. Also, it was none of her business.

“Been long enough,” she heard George mutter under his breath. She looked down at her beer, suddenly feeling slightly uncomfortable. She didn’t know what it felt like to lose a brother - she still had her twin. In that sense, she was surprised to see how well both Percy and George seemed to be adjusting. It had only been a few months since the battle, but they were out and socializing. Well, Percy seemed rather adjusted. George, on the other hand, still seemed a bit up and down. Kara was fairly sure that if Karl had died at Hogwarts that night, she would have lost it and likely spent at least six months locked up in her room crying over it. 

For a moment, she felt bad for Oliver. She could start to understand how difficult it must have been to lose his older brother – they were rather close from what she remembered. But then, she thought about the things he had done to push everyone away - how he had hurt Emmie. In a way, she agreed with George. It had been nearly two years. Using Ryan as an excuse had long lost its expiration date, in her mind. 

“You of all people should know that time doesn’t matter,” Percy said softly. Kara looked over at the two again. George’s jaw was clenched tightly. 

“Did he tell you he cheated on her,” he replied, his voice a bit louder. Kara’s eyes widened. She thought that only she and Fincher knew about that, though it appeared Oliver had shared the information. The way that Percy went rigid told her that he hadn’t known. George laughed hollowly. “Even then I still wanted to help him, since he seemed so remorseful about it. But…” He stopped speaking, gripping his beer tightly. “Even with… how could someone be so selfish? I know I haven’t been all that great to be around, but I’d never do something like that to hurt someone I loved. Not over Fred. And then to have the gall to get into a fight over it… as if he had any right to stand up for her…” He laughed harshly, shaking his head. “No… Wood’s a lost cause. You can’t change my mind on that.” 

Percy opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped, snapping it shut as he turned his attention back to the match. Kara stared at the two a bit longer, before turning her attention back to the game as well.

How the hell was she going to bring this up to Emmie?

~~~

Kara watched Emmie closely as they all stood in the Witches’ Brew after the match. After winning by 200 points, Shackles had given them all the next day off from practice and the team had decided to get some drinks at the pub. She was grateful that the Weasleys had left after the match, unsure of how she’d get through the night with George in a sour mood. He hadn’t gotten much better through the rest of the match, though brightened when Emmie scored just as Bellweather had caught the snitch. 

From the looks of her, Emmie either didn’t know or care about the fight, laughing with Beauchamp and Pucey as the three did another shot. Her cheeks were getting a bit rosey. She had gotten a bit more of the story from Percy before they left and was now looking for Martins and Wickens, who had been there last night. Wickens had disappeared, but she easily found Martins and marched up to him.

“Tell me everything about the fight,” she demanded, causing the beater to sputter a bit over his drink as Bellweather slapped him on the back.

“Well… I mean, I get it. I was about to throttle Carpenter as well,” he said after clearing his throat.

“What the hell, Martins? You left that bit out in the locker room!” Taylor nearly shouted. Kara’s eyes widened.

“Bloody hell, she knows?” she asked.

“Not the details, just that it happened,” Martins said, glancing around. “When we got there, Wood was already fairly pissed, but Carpenter kept feeding him shots. Blimey, it was like he wanted Wood to go mental. He even kept trying to turn them down…” Kara’s eyes widened. 

“Spill. Now,” she said. Martins sighed.

“Look, Carpenter brought up the columns - the ones saying Mac and Pucey were together. Wickens was about to shut it down when Wood said he didn’t think it was true, but didn’t matter if it was,” he said. “Then Carpenter goes off, bragging that he’s going to shag her or something and Wood just… lost it. Tossed the table aside and pounced on him.” Kara and Taylor went silent, staring at him. “I mean, that’s what I can remember. I had a few drinks as well and everything happened so fast…”

“Git. You _know_ we’re not supposed to drink the night before matches,” Taylor hissed. 

“I know! Just… dunno! Everyone was having a good time up until then,” Martins said, looking slightly ashamed. Kara wasn’t paying attention as she looked around, trying to find Emmie. 

“Oh, fuck…” she muttered, finally finding her standing with Wickens. She knew that look on her face as she started towards her. But Emmie was already gone, walking out of the pub. Kara ran to catch up, but stopped on the empty sidewalk. “Seriously?!”

~~~

Emmie chuckled again as she reached over and picked up an ale from the bar, thanking the barkeep. Seemed he was eager to have the team in after playing the match on the wireless. So far all of them hadn’t had to pay for anything the entire night.

Though she had to admit she was slightly disappointed that Percy and George hadn’t come. She didn’t get a chance to talk to them, but Kara mentioned they made it to the match just before they all left for the pub.

“Say, Mac. Can I talk to you?” 

She looked over, seeing a slightly serious Wickens standing next to her, not quite used to that side of him. He seemed to have a joke or a quip on his lips more often than not.

“Sure,” she said, following him a bit of a ways from the rest of the group. “What is it?”

“Just… I thought you should hear about last night from someone who was there,” he said. Emmie frowned. 

“You saw the fight?” she asked, swallowing. He nodded. 

“It…” he stopped, looking at the ground and then looking up at her. “It wasn’t about you and Pucey. Carpenter got out of hand. Spouting off a load of shit about you. Saying you and Flint shagged in school and such. He was clearly baiting Wood. Not to mention, I’m of the mind that he slipped something in his drinks. I was watching and he hadn’t had that much. Not enough to get him that drunk.” Emmie just blinked, unable to speak. “Wood kept sticking up for you. I was trying to as well. But then Carpenter said something about shagging you and Wood just… went for him.” 

Emmie looked down at her drink, unsure of what to do or say. She had often wondered if Oliver still cared for her. Part of her knew that he did, but still. She looked up at Wickens. 

“I’m really sorry about all of this. I should have jumped in sooner-”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But still… Wood’s been suspended for a week. And all bloody Carpenter got was three days. Should’ve gotten more, in my mind. Wood _was_ only sticking up for you,” Wickens said. Emmie looked down at her drink, conflicted. She knew that this changed nothing, but she couldn’t help but feel like she needed to see Oliver. Talk to him. 

“But yea. Figured you hadn’t heard or read about it from the way you reacted earlier, and I wanted you to know the truth,” Wickens said.

“Thanks,” Emmie said looking up at him. “Take this. I’ve… I need to go.” She handed him her drink and started towards the door.

She wasn’t sure just what she was going to say, but she knew she needed to see Oliver.


	15. Old Dog, Old Tricks

Oliver brought the glass to his lips, sitting in the silent flat, where he had been ever since Weathers suspended him. He knew that it had been stupid of him to go after Carpenter, but he couldn’t help it. Where Emmie was involved, he would always lose some amount of control. And the git had deserved it for what he said. 

“Bloody, sodding prat,” he muttered to himself, swaying slightly. Just thinking about his smug grin made his blood boil as his free hand clenched into a fist. He knew in a heartbeat that he’d do it again. Even sober. Even if Weathers had threatened to kick him off the team. Well, no, Weathers had done that. Which is why he shouldn’t be drinking right now, sitting alone and fuming about Carpenter, lest he go out and find him for another pummeling. He had been suspended as well, but only for three days. Not a week as Oliver had. 

There was a knock at the door. Oliver swiveled his head around to look at it, hearing another knock, this one less tentative than the first. He sighed and stood, putting the glass down on the table and preparing himself. It was likely Griffiths coming to ream him out. While he knew that he deserved it, she hadn’t been there. Heard the things Carpenter said.

“What is it, Griffiths-”

Oliver froze after he pulled the door open, staring down at Emmie. She shifted on her feet, a worried look on her face.

“Can I… can I come in?” she asked softly. He nodded wordlessly and stepped back, letting her into the flat. He was glad that he had kept it mostly clean, though his eyes immediately fell on the empty bottle of firewhiskey on the table next to a second that was about half gone and his glass. After shutting the door, he quickly walked over and picked them up, embarrassed that she would see them. 

When he returned to the living room after putting the bottles in the kitchen, Emmie was glancing around, her arms wrapped around herself. She stopped when she saw the photograph of him and Ryan on the wall and then looked over at him. Oliver was struggling to keep from swaying as he stood a few feet away, not wanting her to smell the alcohol on his breath.

“What happened?” she asked simply, her brow furrowed. Her sharp green eyes were already taking in the healing cuts and scrapes on his face and his bruised knuckles.

“Just… a misunderstanding between teammates,” he said, tearing his eyes from hers. 

“I know it was about more than that, Oliver,” she said. 

“Then why are you asking?” he asked, his voice a bit harsher than he intended. 

“Because I want to hear it from you,” she said, taking a step towards him, speaking a bit louder. “You’ve got to stop doing this.”

“Doing what?” he asked, looking up at her as he frowned. No, this is not how he wanted this conversation to go. He’s not supposed to be angry with her. Emmie did nothing wrong. But he couldn’t help as images of her and Adrian flew through his mind. He blamed it on the firewhiskey.

“This,” she said, motioning towards the glass on the table. “You need to start dealing with things rather than, than drinking them away. Or punching them away.” She moved a few steps closer. “You need to start talking about them.”

“Like anyone would listen,” he muttered. Emmie frowned, hearing him.

“We would if you’d let us,” she retorted, the worry quickly leaving her eyes as anger replaced it. “You keep this up and you’ll find yourself completely alone, Oliver.” A short bark of laughter left his lips.

“I’m already alone,” he said hollowly. “You’re too late.” It was true. She was too late. Merlin, why did she keep coming back to him? He didn’t deserve it. She should just give up already. Why did Emmie always come back? “Just… get out, Mac. Why are you even here?”

“Because you went and beat up your teammate. Over me, apparently,” she said, crossing her arms. “God, Oliver…”

“Why are you even still trying?” he shouted.

“Because, believe it or not, I still think that you can do better!” she shouted back.

“We’re never getting back together, Mac!”

Silence fell over the apartment. Bloody hell, what was wrong with his mouth? He didn’t mean it. He supposed after so long of pushing her away, it was now habit. Emmie’s eyes widened slightly as she sucked in a quick breath. He expected her to turn and storm out of the flat, but instead, she quickly walked up to him and deftly slapped him across the face.

Oliver stumbled back a few steps, the alcohol setting his balance off, as he brought his hand up to his cheek. He didn’t say anything, knowing that he deserved it. He deserved a lot worse. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, though he could see her begin to pace out of the corner of his eye.

The fight had completely left Emmie. She took a breath and then harsh laughter left her lips as she stopped pacing.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she said, looking at him. “I can’t keep… thinking that things have changed. That you’ll finally open up… nothing has changed, Oliver.” He still couldn’t bring himself to look at her, his cheek stinging as he dropped his hand. But her words were far more painful. Because he knew they were true. “I… I have to let you go. And you… you _have_ to let me go… No more of these... fights... or jealousy. We both need to move on.” A soft sob left her lips, finally bringing him to look at her.

It was like they were back to that day. The day he had ended things. The same look of complete brokenness coming over her. But in a second, a resolve had entered her eyes as she shook her head and straightened her back.

“I tried. But this…” she sniffed slightly, the tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry that it’s not enough, but I can’t.... I can’t stand here and watch you fall apart… I can barely keep myself together most days…” She started backing up from him. He wanted to reach out. To grab her and pull her close, begging her not to leave. He had pushed her away. Walked away the last time. It was infinitely more painful watching her walk away from him by her own choice.

But at the same time, he knew he had no right to ask her to stay. How could he?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again before she turned and walked out of the flat, leaving him alone in the dark with his thoughts. 

Something inside him told him that she really wasn’t coming back this time. But wasn’t that what he had wanted?

~~~

_Oliver’s eyes fell on the note on the nightstand as shame flooded through him. Most of the night was a blur. He remembered going out and meeting up with Carpenter and Walters. Remembered the seemingly endless amount of shots they fed him. How things got fuzzier and fuzzier though they never seemed to get drunk. He remembered snogging the blonde - couldn’t remember her name. And thinking that he just wanted to forget everything._

_He had told himself with the previous one that it was the last time. That it was out of his system and he wouldn’t do it again. Each hook-up had only brought more guilt. He had a loving, amazing girlfriend that waited up for him most nights and he wasn’t - shouldn’t - throw that away for short instances of meaningless, drunk sex with strangers that temporarily numbed the pain and helped him to forget that everything was falling apart around him._

_He grabbed the note and tried to slip it under his pillow, hoping that Emmie hadn’t seen it._

_“I already saw it.”_

_He froze as he looked over at her, seeing her slowly turn around. He didn’t need to hear her say anything. He could already see just how hurt she was, the pain raw in her eyes. It was then that he realized she knew about the others as well. She knew everything. A deep pain filled his chest and he was at a loss of what to say._

_He didn’t deserve her. He had screwed up too much to even think about how to fix it. But knowing Emmie, she would still try. It wasn’t fair to her to draw it out any longer. She needed someone who could be there for her. Who wasn’t a burden like him. Who didn’t seek out one-night stands to try and fill an endless void that he knew they couldn’t fill._

_“We need to talk about this.”_

_“What’s there to talk about?” he asked tiredly, looking away. He didn’t want to. That would only make the pain and shame worse._

_“You. This. This isn’t you, Oliver. If you would just tell me-”_

_“There’s nothing to talk about,” he snapped, forcing himself to glare at her. As much as it pained him to yell at her, he knew what he was about to say was the only thing that would get her to finally see that he was a lost cause. That she should give up and move on. Let him wallow in his pain alone._

_As the conversation continued, the pain only grew until he shouted and threw the bottle against the wall, seeing her flinch and jump away. He didn’t want to hurt her like this, but it was the best way. He knew it was unfair to bring up Diggory, but he knew that she would grasp at anything to try and stay._

_He sat back down on the bed, rubbing his face after she ran out. She’d likely still come back. He’d have to change the locks._

_He then looked up, staring through his open door as a deep emptiness settled on him. And then the pain. A deep, unending pain that went into his bones and every fiber of his being. He took a few deep breaths, but they did nothing to stop the hot tears pouring down his cheeks or the guttural sobs that started to break loose from his lips as he bent over, dropping his face into his hands._

_She was gone. And he knew that she was gone forever. Even if she tried to come back, he didn’t deserve her. He never would._

_Oliver Wood was completely alone. And it was his own damn fault._

~~~

_“He’ll… he’ll be alright, you know,” Oliver said as he sat next to Emmie on the sofa, awkwardly and wondering just what had possessed him to run to her side. Go to St. Mungo’s with her. Then offer to help her home. He wasn’t equipped to deal with this. To try and help. He had no right to be there, but there he was. She was staring at the coffee table, her hair falling out of her ponytail. She was still covered in the grime from the battle. “Alex is strong…”_

_“I just… it was my fault,” she murmured. “I froze…”_

_“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Em. Anyone would have done the same,” Oliver replied. He knew that he had tried to. But Alex had beat him there. Emmie turned to look at him, her eyes wide and rimmed in red._

_“But it was my fault. I froze and my brother jumped in front of that curse - for me!” she nearly shouted. The tears coursed down her cheeks as she struggled to breathe. Oliver wasn’t sure what to say to her, so instead he reached out and pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sobbed._

_It had been such a long time since he held her like this. Though before there hadn’t been any tears. Just Emmie in his arms, her head on his shoulder. He began to rub her arm as she continued to cry, thinking to all the nights she had fallen asleep in his arms. He missed this. Holding her. Being close to her. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Make everything right. See her smile again._

_“It’ll be alright, Em,” he said softly. “It’s over. It’s going to be alright.”_

_He wasn’t sure how long they sat there like that, but eventually Emmie’s sobbing quieted. They sat there for a bit more, Emmie clinging to him. Eventually she sat up and wiped her face, though Oliver kept one arm around her._

_“Thanks for that,” she said softly._

_“I’m always here for you,” Oliver said. She looked over at him, her eyes wide again. “I mean it…”_

_He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he slowly leaned over and pressed a kiss against her lips. Emmie didn’t move at first, still staring at him. But before he could move away she met his lips again. A warmth spread through Oliver as he wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her closer as he began to move his lips against hers. Emmie gripped his shirt pulling him even closer. He continued moving until he was lying on top of her on the sofa, running his fingers through her hair as the kiss became more urgent. More passionate. He could almost feel her heart beating against his chest, matching his own frantic pace. Her hands were under his shirt, running up his back and sending shivers down his spine._

_As hard as it was, he stopped, pulling back as they both breathed heavily. He knew that they shouldn’t go any further. They had been broken up for a while now. And they were both running on adrenaline alone, having not slept at all in over 24 hours. This was because they had just survived a battle. Not because they truly wanted to be together._

_“Are you sure?” he asked, trying to push away the lust-induced haze around his mind. Merlin, he wanted nothing more than to continue as he stared into Emmie’s green eyes. She nodded._

_“I just want to forget… for one night,” she whispered back. “Make me forget, Oliver.” She then lifted her head slightly, meeting his lips again. All thoughts of a being rational left his mind in that moment. All he wanted was this one night with her._

_If she wanted to forget, then he would do his damnedest to help her. It was the least he could do._

_~~~_

_Oliver sighed as he looked over, seeing Emmie’s long hair cascading over the pillow. She was sound asleep. He felt a mixture of things as he stared at her. He wanted nothing more than to pull her back into his arms. Stay there. Never let her go again._

_But he knew that he couldn’t. He had lost the right to call her his a long time ago. He didn’t deserve her. She would likely say as much tomorrow when she was thinking clearly and not upset over her brother._

_Emmie moved in her sleep, kicking slightly. She whimpered softly, as though she were having a nightmare. Instinctively, he started to reach for her but stopped. Emmie rolled over, facing him. Her hand reached out, searching for him. Oliver swallowed as he lay down and pulled her into his arms. The whimpering stopped and her face smoothed out, relaxing._

_“Don’t leave me,” she murmured._

_Oliver smoothed the hair from her face, taking in the cuts and scratches across her pale skin. They would heal quickly enough. It was the invisible wounds that worried him. She had seen so much that night. They both had. It would change her. He softly kissed the top of her head and looked up at the ceiling, finding it hard to fall asleep._

_What did he do now?_

~~~

Emmie rushed into the flat, the tears still on her cheeks and her eyes lit up with fire. Kara stood from the sofa, a worried look on her face. She had an idea of where Emmie went when she left the bar and figured the best thing to do was to wait for her at home.

“What is it Emmie?” she asked. Emmie just shook her head and burst into loud sobs. 

“I tried. I just… keep trying, and, and…” 

Kara said nothing as she pulled Emmie into her arms.

“Why do I do this to myself?”

~~~

_Emmie rolled over and reached out, finding the other side of the bed empty. She popped an eye open, frowning slightly when she didn’t see Oliver. She opened both eyes and sat up, holding the comforter to her chest as she looked around her room. Her dirty clothes were still on the floor, but she didn’t see his. Perhaps he was in the bathroom or kitchen. She didn’t hear anything._

_She threw off the comforter and walked over, grabbing her robe off the hook on her closet door and pulling it on. She then checked in the attached bathroom, not seeing him there. She padded out into the living room and kitchen, seeing both empty. Glancing around, she thought perhaps he had left a note. Surely he wouldn’t go off without saying anything. Not after the night they had shared._

_Emmie felt their old connection last night. One that she had nearly forgotten about. She felt safe in his arms, believing what he said. That she would be alright. They all would._

_“Em! Oh my god!” Kara said. Emmie jumped and turned around seeing her best friend rushing into the apartment as she wrapped her in a fierce hug. “I went to the hospital, but your parents said you came home.”_

_“Yea, I should… I need to shower and get back,” she said, though she was in a daze. Kara stepped back and studied her._

_“They told me Oliver was with you.”_

_Emmie nodded and looked away, feeling tears start to fill her eyes. She had thought perhaps he had changed. That he was once again the man she fell in love with. But it appeared he hadn’t changed at all. He had just treated her like one of his other flings, after all._

_“Oh, Emmie… what happened?” Kara asked._

_“He brought me here and at first… he was wonderful… he comforted me… and then we…” she stopped speaking, bringing her hand to her mouth. “We slept together. But he was gone when I woke up.”_

_“Oh, Em… I’m so sorry,” Kara said softly._

_“I thought… I thought maybe he… that we…” Emmie said as the tears started up again. She then stopped and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”_

_“Yes, it does,” Kara said. Emmie looked over at her. “Damn him. I’m going to give him a good lashing when I-”_

_“No, don’t,” Emmie said. “I just… I just want to forget that… I need to move on.” Kara only stared at her. “I have to… That’s the last time Oliver Wood breaks my heart.”_

~~~

“I just… I thought if I went there and we talked… maybe he would finally open up to me,” Emmie said, now calm as she sat on the sofa, a mug of tea in her hands. Kara sat next to her, rubbing her back. “I know that you all told me that I should let it go, and I thought that I had, but when I heard what the fight was about…”

Kara didn’t say anything, just continued to rub her back. Emmie shook her head.

“It was stupid. I just had this thought that… maybe if he still loved me, maybe there was still hope we could…” she stopped speaking as she brought her hand to her mouth.

“Em… that may be true, but we can still hurt people that we love,” Kara replied. Emmie took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“I know,” she said solemnly. “I know… and… I think… in a way, maybe this was good.”

“How so?” Kara asked, her brow furrowed. Emmie looked over at her.

“I think I’m finally ready to let him go,” she said softly. Kara nodded and pulled Emmie closer to her, wrapping her arms around her. 

“As tough as this was, I’m glad to see you finally mean it,” she said. 

“And… I think… it’s time that I fixed things with Alex,” Emmie added. Kara frowned, not expecting that.

“If anything, this shows that you shouldn’t push-”

“Alex is my brother. I can’t lose him,” Emmie said, her voice firm. “I’ve lost Oliver… I’m not going to lose him too.” Kara just stared at her a moment, but she knew there was nothing that she could say that would stop her. Emmie had set her mind to it and would follow through.

She just hoped this went better than Oliver. It would break Emmie if her brother forever pushed her out of his life. But at the same time, she knew that Alex was different from Oliver. And that perhaps, this would work out different.

“Alright then…”


	16. Attempt at Amends

Emmie wasn’t sure how long she stood in front of the door, telling herself to knock. She had been brimming with confidence all week and when she left the flat earlier, but now that she was there, she couldn’t help but think that this was a horrible idea. Practice and yesterday’s match had kept her from thinking about it too much to change her mind, but now that it was time, the nerves had come.

“You can do this,” she murmured to herself, raising her hand to knock. Never mind that Alex had never responded to any of her owls and the fact her parents had suggested she wait a bit longer before trying to talk to him again. Swallowing, she stepped back after she had knocked and waited. Fear that he wouldn’t answer started coursing through her, though she immediately shoved it aside. 

She was Emmie MacKenzie. She could talk to her bloody brother. And she was going to make sure that she didn’t end up losing him too. She may have given up on Oliver, but she wasn’t giving up on Alex.

After a minute, the door opened. 

Alex just stood there, leaning on his cane as he stared at her, neither making any move nor saying anything, his expression unreadable. While it wasn’t much, Emmie took it as a good start as she smiled weakly.

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked. He clearly wasn’t happy with Emmie’s presence, but he still hadn’t moved to shut the door. Granted, he also hadn’t invited her in.

“We need to talk,” Emmie said, willing her voice to stay calm. “Please.”

“I can’t, Emmie,” he said, starting to shut the door, though a painful expression painted his features. Emmie reached out and stopped the door, locking eyes with him. 

“This had gone on long enough,” she said, pushing the door open and walking in, a spurt of strength coming from somewhere – perhaps she had an inner Gryffindor after all. She walked into the living room and then whirled around to face him as he hobbled in after her, a stern gaze on her face as she crossed her arms in front of her. “You are my only brother, Alex MacKenzie. I’ve lost too many people because of this damn war and I’m not about to lose you, too.” 

He didn’t respond, only stared at her. Emmie could feel the tears already pricking at her eyes.

“I know it’s my fault,” she said, her voice cracking. “And you have no idea how sorry I am… I should have… I… that day…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again once she regained control of her words. “I need to make this right. I’m not sure how to do that, but I want to, Alex. If it’s helping with your physical therapy, or if you want me to move in and help around here. I’ll even quit the team, if that’s what it takes.”

A stunned look appeared as he stared at her, not speaking. He finally rubbed his face and moved over to the sofa, stiffly lowering himself down on it. He then looked up at her. 

“Don’t quit. That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Why would I want you to quit?”

“Because… every time quidditch comes up, you lose it. And I get it. I know why you must hate me. It’s because of me that you might not be able to play again-”

“I don’t hate you, Em,” he interrupted softly. “I never hated you. To be honest, I’ve never actually been angry at you for what happened. I chose to jump in front of that curse.”

Emmie stared at him in surprise a moment.

“But… you tossed me out. And you wouldn’t have gotten hurt if-”

“I’d rather be like this then have watched you die,” he said. Emmie blinked a few times.

“Then… why…”

He swallowed and stared at the coffee table, wringing his hands together. Emmie remained standing, watching as a few emotions flew across his face.

“I was angry about being injured, but don’t ever think that it was your fault or that I blame you. It’s not that. I mean, Christ… you’re my little sister, what kind of brother would I be if I didn’t try to protect you? I’ve just been… angry about a lot of things. Angry with myself, mostly,” he said. His jaw clenched slightly. “Ever since Ryan died…”

Emmie remained silent, not sure what to say. She wasn’t sure why he would be angry with himself over all of this. Ryan’s death certainly wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t been anywhere near the shop when the attack happened.

“When I saw you freeze, that curse flying towards you… All I could think was… I couldn’t lose someone else that I loved. I couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head.

Emmie couldn’t help herself as she moved to sit next to him on the sofa, though didn’t say anything, watching as Alex was obviously going over where to start. He finally sighed and shook his head.

“But you didn’t lose me,” she said.

“I know…” he said.

“And Ryan…”

“I loved him.” 

“We all did,” Emmie replied softly. Alex looked up at her, his brow furrowed.

“No… not like that,” he said. “Ryan and I… we were together…” 

“Well yea, you were best friends-”

“Emmie, you’re not listening. Ryan and I were in love,” Alex stated.

Emmie’s eyes widened as what he meant dawned on her, her mouth dropping open slightly. She knew that the two were close, but she had never thought it was something more. Though now that she really thought about it, it did make sense. In a way. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, reaching out and taking his hand. “You know that I wouldn’t have cared. Mom and Da either.” He laughed dryly. 

“I wasn’t ready. I mean, could you see it? Star player on Wanderers comes out of the broom closet with Wasps star keeper,” he said, now looking back at the coffee table again. “I needed some time to get ready for that…”

“How long did this go on?” Emmie asked.

“Awhile,” he said. “Truthfully, I think I started feeling it in Hogwarts, though I spent the whole time denying it. And in the years after... But… we finally came clean about our feelings about a year before he…” he swallowed. “We were going to tell you guys that day. The day that he died.” 

“Oh,” Emmie said softly, remembering how they had plans to meet up at the Woods for dinner that night. She then thought to Oliver and how hard he was taking his brother’s death. “Did… did Oliver know?”

“I don’t think so,” Alex said. “Ryan… he wanted to tell everyone right away, but I convinced him that we should wait-” His voice cut out and Emmie leaned over, wrapping her arms around her brother as he dropped his head down.

“You could have told me. You didn’t have to go through all of this alone. And you know we accept you no matter what,” she said. “There was no need to hide it…”

“I, I suppose I know. But… I just… I mean, blimey, I knew that there was going to be a fuss about it. And I was scared. Bloody worried about my career when I should have been worried about the man that I loved,” he replied. He then stopped talking as he dropped his face into his hands again, his shoulders shaking as he fought to keep from crying.

Emmie felt her own tears pricking at her eyes. All this time. She should have talked to him before now. Seen the signs. But she had been too wrapped up in her own issues that she hadn’t noticed. What kind of sister did that make her?

“I’m so sorry, Alex,” she said. “I should have been there for you.”

“Not like I let you,” he replied.

“I know, but I should have seen… something,” she said. “God, I’m so self-centered…”

Alex pushed her back slightly, looking over at her as he shook his head.

“No. Don’t feel sad or guilty about any of this. I told you. None of it is your fault. I chose to hide it from you. And I just… I felt a bit lost after Ryan died. And with him gone, I wasn’t sure if I should even say anything,” he said. “I just… suppose I needed to try and figure things out on my own.” Emmie nodded, wiping her cheeks.

“And then the war and the battle… spending all that time in hospital with nothing but my thoughts and memories… thinking about how I almost watched you die. About Ryan. And then they told me I might not play again… it was just… it got to be too much… I pushed you away because I knew I needed to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how,” he said.

“Well… you’ve told me now,” she said, smiling slightly. “There’s that.” Alex nodded.

“Bit late, though…” 

“Better late than never?” Emmie offered, hoping to try and get him to laugh. He smiled slightly and then shook his head.

“I owe you an apology… for how I’ve been. Things haven’t been that much easier for you,” he said. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Emmie said, shoving him lightly. “You know me. I can take care of myself.” 

“Still my little sister. Forgive me if I want to protect you all the time,” he replied. “Especially since I’ve done a shite job of that lately.” Emmie rolled her eyes.

“You jumped in front of curse for me. Think that makes you brother of the year,” she said wryly. 

“I wasn’t all that great when Oliver broke up with you,” he said, frowning.

“Not much you could have done there,” she said, her smile fading. “You were both rather broken up about Ryan’s death.” 

“Yea, but doesn’t excuse how he treated you. Should have gone over and kicked his ass when I had the chance,” Alex replied. “Though doesn’t really excuse how I’ve treated you either…”

“No, it’s good that you didn’t do anything to him,” Emmie said, pushing up from the sofa. “He’s doing enough damage to himself on his own.”

“What are you doing?” Alex asked, watching as she walked to the kitchen and knowing from the tone of her voice that she didn’t want to talk about Oliver anymore.

“Going to heat up some of the leftovers I know Mum’s left. And then we’re going to catch up on the last few months,” she called back. “Relax. I’ve got this.” 

~~~

Sometime later, Alex chuckled as Emmie told him about her run-in with Carpenter. She waved her wand and sent their empty plates to the sink in the kitchen and then reached for her beer, taking a sip. 

“Always thought Carpenter was a prat,” he said, reaching for his own. “Wish I could have seen the look on his face.”

“Oh, there’s more where that came from,” Emmie said lightly, straightening up slightly. Her thoughts turned to the fight, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to ruin the mood with talk of Oliver.

“The blokes on the Arrows treating you well?” Alex asked, turning slightly serious. She nodded.

“Fitting into the team nicely,” she said. “We’ve won all our matches so far.” 

“When’s the next one?” he asked. Emmie thought a moment.

“Thursday. Then another on Saturday,” she said finally. “Harpies and then the Bats.” He nodded.

“Think you can swing me tickets to both?” he asked. Emmie stared at him a moment before grinning. 

“You sure?” she asked. Alex nodded. 

“Been going half mad cooped up here most of the time. And if I want to get back on the pitch, well, need to get to the pitch, don’t I?” he said with a sigh. “Been keeping up with my PT, though. Probably the only time I really leave the house. Think I scare folks with this.” He motioned to his face.

“Still handsome to me. And finally,” Emmie said, rolling her eyes. “Let me guess, there’s some handsome bloke catching your eye and that’s got you all focused on going.” Alex didn’t look at her a moment, the left side of his face flushing slightly. Emmie sat up, eyes wide and a grin appearing. “Bloody hell - who is it?”

“Name’s Malcolm… he’s not my healer, but he works in the same department… I see him every time I go in and we chat here and there,” he said, taking another drink. Emmie grinned and then reached out, hitting him on the leg a few times in her excitement. 

“Well, I, for one, hope it works out. You deserve a good bloke,” she said. 

“Thanks, Em,” Alex replied. “Speaking of good blokes, any news on that front?”

“Why? So, you can go give them the third degree?” Emmie scoffed.

“Not like I can do much in the way of threats at the moment, though definitely think I look more intimidating,” he said. “Just… you know… it’s been a long time for you as well. About time you moved on, yea?” Emmie shrugged.

“I’m not dating anyone at the moment. Though… dunno… might be something with someone,” she said vaguely, not yet ready to tell him that it was Marcus Flint. He would lose it if she told him about that.

“Anyone I know?” Alex asked. Emmie waved her hand in the air.

“It’s probably nothing,” she said quickly. “I’ll let you know if it goes anywhere.”

“Best,” Alex said. 

They moved back to talking about quidditch, discussing the training routine Fitzgibbons and Shackles had her on. She couldn’t help as her heart swelled in joy. 

She had gotten her brother back.

~~~

Emmie hummed as she walked into the flat later that night, catching Kara as she walked out of her room dressed up.

“Where are you off to?” Emmie asked lightly. Kara froze, almost as though she hadn’t expected Emmie to walk in right then.

“Nowhere,” she said quickly. “Take it things went well with Alex.” Emmie chuckled as she walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine.

“I know you’re deflecting, but I’ll let it slide for now. We’ll revisit your outfit in a minute,” Emmie said before taking a drink. “But yes. Things went really well. We finally talked everything out. And he’s coming to my next match.” 

Kara’s mouth dropped open as she quickly walked over to her. 

“Wait… seriously?” she asked, completely stunned. “Just like that?” Emmie shrugged.

“He had a lot more going on than I knew, and we talked about it. But yea, we’re good. Just like that,” she said. “So, who are you going out to meet?” Kara rolled her eyes.

“If you must know… Fincher,” she said. Emmie’s eyes widened as she nearly spit her wine out. “Don’t give me that look. He said it was to talk about you.”

“Me?” Emmie asked, slightly incredulous.

“Yea, I know. It’s just an excuse, but honestly, he’s one of the few good blokes left out there. Can you blame me for saying yes?” Kara said primly, though a small smile was on her face. Emmie just grinned.

“I think it’s great,” she said. “I hope you have fun tonight.” 

“I intend to. Though I really should be going if I’m going to make it on time,” Kara said, looking at her watch. “You good alone? You can always come with me-”

“God, no. I’m not going on your date with you. Get out of here,” Emmie said, shooing her away from the island. “I’m perfectly fine.” Kara smiled and then hugged her.

“Happy to hear about Alex,” she said. “Have a good night! And don’t wait up.” Kara winked as she left the flat, causing Emmie to chuckle. She made her way over to the dining table, going through the post that had come in. She tossed The Prophet and Witch Weekly to the side, stopping on an envelope addressed to her. Putting her glass down, she opened it and skimmed through it, her eyebrows rising. 

It was from Marcus, asking if she wanted to get drinks Monday night. Emmie looked up, thinking it over. They had mentioned doing just that last weekend and she was surprised it took him so long. Figuring he had a busy practice schedule, she walked over to a desk and pulled out paper and a pen, quickly jotting down that she was free and would love to meet him, then quickly put it in an envelope and addressed it. 

She then walked over to the cage where she and Kara kept the owl they shared, letting her out and then opening the window as she held the envelope to the animal.

“Hurry back,” she said before kissing the top of its head and then holding her arm out the window. The owl took off. Emmie turned back to the room, returning to her glass of wine and then settling on the sofa with a book. 

Yes, today had been rather good, she couldn’t help but think. Not bad at all.

~~~

Oliver lay on his sofa in the darkened apartment, tossing a quaffle into the air and then attempting to catch it. For the fourth time in the last few minutes, he fumbled and then watched as it rolled across the floor, knocking over a few empty bottles. Sighing he sat up, then quickly shut his eyes as the room spun. He had lost track of how many drinks he had early on - starting into the firewhiskey sometime just before lunch. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t due back on the pitch until Monday morning anyway.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened his eyes and then reached for his glass, gulping down a bit before putting it back on the table, sloshing a bit out of it.

He then leaned over and ran his fingers through his hair. How could he have let himself say those things? He had really fucked up this time and probably succeeded in finally pushing Emmie away forever. While he hadn’t had much hope that someday they could get back together, part of him had hoped maybe they could somehow work through things. At the very least, he had hoped that he wouldn’t hurt her again. Or more than he already had.

And then he did just that.

He looked around the flat, the idea coming to him that maybe if he tried to explain things. Told her everything. Maybe she would listen. Maybe she would help him finally drag himself out of the rather large hole that he had dug for himself.

He stood from the sofa, weaving his way over to his desk where there was parchment and a pen lying out. He leaned over as he grabbed the pen and then stared at the paper. Shaking his head, he picked it up and made his way back to the sofa, thinking it over.

“Dear Mac…” he said aloud as he started scribbling on the paper, finding it hard to really focus on the words. It looked like a bloody mess. “I’m… sorry…” He stopped writing, staring at it a moment before balling it up and throwing it aside.

Who was he kidding? She’d likely burn it before she read it. Sighing, he dropped his head into his hands, once again wondering how he had let things get this bad. He had taken a good step forward. How on earth had he let himself take five steps back? Hot tears pricked at his eyes as he tried to blink them back. There was no way he could get himself out of this. He was doomed to forever screw everything up. 

And he was alone.

He stared at the next piece of blank paper a moment before he reached for the pen again. He knew that he couldn’t write Emmie and ask her for help. But perhaps there was someone he could reach out to.


	17. A New Page

“What’s got you in a good mood, Mac?” Fincher asked Monday morning. Emmie’s eyes widened as she glanced over at him while getting into her workout clothes, her cheeks coloring slightly. “You were humming…”

“Oh, just… finally worked things out with Alex this weekend,” she said quickly, unsure if she wanted to mention her date that night with Marcus - which is what she had actually been thinking about as she got ready for conditioning. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adrian’s eyebrows raise from her other side. She was already thinking about hitting him if he said anything, though she felt like he wouldn’t.

“Really?” Fincher asked, turning to her as a smile filled his face. “That’s good to hear.”

“Yea, he’s coming to our next match and the one on Saturday. Been keeping up with his rehab, so eager to get back to quidditch,” she continued. She then straightened up and looked around the locker room, seeing everyone with hopeful looks on their faces. “Fair warning… he’s pretty scarred up… just don’t stare at it too much.”

While she knew the team wouldn’t do or say anything to upset him, she couldn’t help feeling a bit protective of Alex. She almost laughed at that thought - seemed the tables had turned.

“No need to worry about that,” Beauchamp said lightly. “Sure he’ll still make the most eligible bachelor list in Witch Weekly. They’ll probably say it makes him more rugged.” Emmie smiled as she returned to getting ready, happy to hear that much. 

“Excited about tonight?” Adrian asked softly, a playful smile on his face.

“Seriously, Pucey?” she whispered, glancing around nervously. 

“What’s tonight?” Fincher asked.

“Nothing. How was your date with Kara on Saturday?” Emmie said quickly, looking over at him. The question had the desired effect as Fincher began stuttering and the rest of the team turned on him, peppering him with questions about going out with her roommate. 

Emmie chuckled as she sat down and laced up her trainers. She already knew how the date went - fairly well, from Kara’s reckoning. The two planned to have another soon. 

“See you in the gym,” she sang as she stood and walked towards the door. 

“No! You don’t get to start somethin’ and walk away!” Fincher shouted. Emmie just laughed and waved as she continued out the door.

Served him right for poking his nose into her business. Though she was sure that Kara would kick her later.

At least it was worth it for now.

~~~

Emmie couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she paced around the flat. Normally she would have just gotten ready and left from the stadium, but after seeing the team giving Fincher the third degree that morning, she was certainly glad that she had decided to get ready at home. Last thing she wanted was for anyone to pick up on the fact that she was going on a date with Marcus Flint and tease her about it. 

She was still trying to figure out exactly how she felt about it, though at the moment she was thinking she was excited. Yes, excited. And nervous. But still excited.

She glanced at her watch again, knowing that he’d be there any minute. Bloody hell, why was she nervous about this? She walked over to a mirror on the wall, checking her hair and makeup, then straightened her blouse. 

“Get a grip, MacKenzie,” she muttered to herself. “Not the first date you’ve been on.” 

_“First date with Marcus Flint,”_ a voice said in her head. In a moment, she was taken back to sixth year. All the things he had said. The way he looked at her. A shiver of fear ran down her spine as for a moment she worried that perhaps this was just another act. Though, surely Adrian wouldn’t have worked to set them up if he was still anything like he had been. Right?

“This is fine,” she told herself, shaking her head slightly. It had to be. Yes, this was just another, normal date. With Marcus Flint. 

“Stop talking to yourself! It’ll be great!” Kara shouted from her room. Emmie looked over her shoulder, scowling slightly.

“I know!” 

The door chimed and Emmie whipped her head over to look at it. She then walked over and pulled on a jacket and grabbed her purse from the sofa.

“Have fun!” Kara called.

“I will!” Emmie called back as she walked to the door and pulled it open. Marcus looked up from the flowers that he was holding in his hands, his eyes wide. He then suddenly held them out, smiling nervously.

“I… thought you might like these,” he said. Emmie glanced down at them and then up at his face, smiling warmly. 

“They’re beautiful,” she replied, accepting them. That was already a point in his favor. She couldn’t remember the last time Oliver had gotten her flowers. 

No. She was not going to think about him tonight.

Pushing Oliver from her mind, Emmie walked back into the flat, going to the kitchen, where she quickly pulled out a vase and put them in it before filling it with water. She glanced over, seeing Marcus looking around the light and airy room.

“Nice place,” he said, meeting her eyes.

“Thanks,” she said, blushing slightly. She then stepped over to him. “Ready?” He nodded and held out his arm.

“Let’s go.”

Emmie took a deep breath and then looped her arm through his. 

“Let’s.”

~~~

Emmie couldn’t help but feel impressed as they walked into the restaurant. It wasn’t one of the most expensive on the Alley, but it was tasteful and elegant. They were quickly sat at a table towards the back and left to look over the menu. Emmie swallowed, feeling her nerves flare up again. Bloody hell, she was a grown woman. Why was she so nervous?

“How did you find this place?” she asked, glancing over at Marcus, searching for something - anything - to talk about.

“Oh, ehm… Adrian suggested it,” he replied. “I don’t really eat out much, to be honest.” 

“Takeout?” Emmie asked, smiling slightly.

“No, actually. Mostly I cook for myself,” he said. Emmie’s couldn’t help but feel a bit more impressed. He cooked. Fancy that. “What?” Marcus looked down at his shirt, thinking he had something on it.

“Nothing. Just… wasn’t expecting to hear that you cook,” she said honestly as she looked back down at the menu. She caught the slight pink tint to his cheeks. 

“Perhaps you can come over and try it sometime,” he said. A look came over his face, as though he was surprised that he suggested it. Emmie blinked a few times and then nodded, warming up to the idea. She couldn’t lie, part of her was curious to see where he lived. Though not just yet. This was their first date, after all.

“I’d… I’d like that,” she said softly before burying her face in her menu again, hoping to hide the blush that was surely coming over her face. 

Good grief, what was coming over her? It was like she was back at Hogwarts again.

Soon enough, they had ordered and were waiting on their wine. Emmie couldn’t help but glance around the restaurant. While they hadn’t run out of things to talk about with Adrian, she was suddenly at a loss for words now that it was just the two of them alone. From the way Marcus was fidgeting in his chair, seemed he was as well. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the wine to arrive and she eagerly grabbed her glass and took a drink.

“So… good day at practice today?” she asked, finding work to be an easy enough topic to start with. Marcus nodded.

“About the same,” he replied. “You?” 

“Yea, same,” Emmie replied, looking at her glass. “Got a couple matches this week, so been going a bit hard.” 

“Thank Merlin we’re not playing you yet. Seems you’ve been winning everything so far,” he said. 

“Only four matches,” Emmie said. “And it’s a group effort.”

“Yea, but _you’ve_ been doing really well,” he said quickly. Emmie gave him a bit of dubious look. “Seriously. Quidditch Monthly had you listed as one of the rookies to watch this season.” Emmie blushed as she looked back down at her glass. “Still got that modesty, it seems.” She glanced up at him and smiled shyly as she shrugged. 

“Just… all I do is go out there and work hard,” she said, slowly spinning the wine glass. Marcus chuckled.

“What did I tell you in school? Don’t underestimate yourself, Mac. You’re good,” he said. Emmie continued staring at her glass, suddenly remembering everything else that he had said to her in school. A slight frown came across her face. “Though… suppose I said a lot of rotten things as well…”

Emmie took a drink of wine and then leveled her gaze at him.

“Yea, you did,” she said, her voice surprisingly even. “And then the whole potion thing… attacking me and Oliver that night…” 

“Still surprised that you even agreed to come out with me tonight, to be honest. Or even talk to me,” he replied.

“Bit surprised myself,” Emmie said with a chuckle, looking down at her glass. “Part of me still thinks I’m mad for trusting you.”

“Know I wouldn’t if I were you,” Marcus said. Emmie looked up. She could see that he was being truthful. “There’s… no excuse for it. But I didn’t really grow up with the best sorts of role models.”

“You mentioned that you left your family,” Emmie said, finding herself leaning towards him across the table. Marcus nodded.

“Father was a death eater. Taught me that failure would lead to pain. And that power was meant to be taken and used over others that were weaker. Or at least those he deemed weaker,” he said with a sigh. “What he didn’t teach me is that it was the best way to live a miserable life.”

Emmie couldn’t help but feel for him. While he seemed to be glossing over details, it was enough to tell her that things at Flint Manor hadn’t been all that great. She suddenly felt rather lucky for her family - more so now that she and Alex were on good terms again.

“I have to admit, you were part of the reason I wanted to change,” he continued.

“Me?” she asked, stunned. He nodded and looked back down at his glass, too nervous to meet her eyes.

“Yea. I, ah, watched you seventh year. At first it was mostly to figure out a way to get back at you for kicking my ass. But then... I ended up learning a whole lot more than that," he said. "That strength comes in different forms and... I didn't want to be miserable anymore."

“That’s why you left,” she said. He nodded, finally meeting her eyes. 

“It was the first step. Had a long way to go from there,” he said, smiling slightly. “Adrian helped. Kicked me in the ass a lot.”

Emmie tilted her head to the side, studying him for a moment. He squirmed slightly under her gaze, but it was still there. The thing telling her that he was being honest. That this wasn’t just an act. 

“But doesn’t change the fact that I owe you a massive apology,” he said. “I don’t expect forgiveness. Probably don’t deserve it. But… I am sorry. For… everything. And I’m glad that you’re at least giving me a chance…”

Emmie looked back down at her glass, a small smile on her face. 

“People change,” she said. A shadow passed over her face, but she shook it away. “And sometimes… for the better.” She looked up at him. “And sometimes they deserve another chance…” 

Marcus smiled in relief and nodded. 

“Glad to hear that,” he said, taking another drink. Thankfully, their food appeared and the two dug in, though kept up a steady stream of conversation. Once again, Emmie found it easy to talk to him, even telling him about going to see her brother that weekend and how they worked things out.

He then talked about his neighbors - the little old lady who had taken pity on him, and then there was a young family down the hall, an older wizard on the first floor who always asked him about practice and matches. For someone who seemed so private, he certainly spent a decent amount of time conversing with the people who lived around him.

By the time their dessert was delivered, Emmie found herself thinking that she wouldn’t mind going out with Marcus again. She was still easing herself into the idea of a relationship, but it didn’t seem so bad if this date was anything to go by.

As they finished up the last of the wine and their cheesecake, Emmie couldn’t help but notice that Marcus got a bit nervous again, which she was starting to find endearing. He paid the check and they headed outside, starting to slowly walk back to her flat. Emmie surprised herself by putting her arm through his. They started out in a comfortable silence, though Marcus cleared his throat and glanced down at her.

“So… the Halloween Gala is coming up soon,” he said. 

“Yea, suppose Kara and I will need to go shopping soon. Got a feeling Fincher’s going to ask her,” she replied.

“Fincher and Watkins?” Marcus asked, looking down at her in surprise. “Didn’t see that one coming.” Emmie snorted.

“Me neither, to be honest. I knew he fancied her for awhile, but never thought he’d buck up and finally ask her out,” she said with a chuckle. Marcus nodded and turned his attention back to the sidewalk.

“I was wondering… if you might like to go with me… as my date,” he said. Emmie stopped walking and looked up at him. He glanced at her nervously.

“I… yea,” she said, starting to smile. He looked at her, seeming surprised that she had said yes.

“Really?” he asked. Emmie chuckled and nodded.

“Yes,” she said. “I had fun tonight.”

“I did too,” Marcus said, smiling as they started to walk again. “Part of me still can’t believe that you’d agree to go out with me.” 

“Because of everything before?” she asked.

“Yea,” he said. “And well… truth be told… I’ve fancied you for a bit. Just… didn’t think you’d even talk to me. Got a lucky break when Adrian got signed to the Arrows and dragged me to that party that night.”

“Yea, suppose it was lucky,” Emmie said. 

Soon enough, they were at her building and he walked her up to her door. Emmie turned to face him, suddenly a bit nervous again. She looked up and smiled.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said softly. Marcus had his hands in his pockets and nodded. He looked at his feet and then back up at her, pulling his hands out. He then leaned down, leaving a chaste kiss on her cheek.

“Anytime, Mac,” he said, his voice soft.

It was so different from how he had been before, but Emmie still felt a bit of the same electricity running through her. She stared at him just a moment before she stepped closer and went up on her toes, pressing her lips to his. His eyes widened slightly, not expecting that. 

He only hesitated a second before he put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer, kissing her properly this time. Emmie brought her arms up around his neck, part of her not quite believing that she was actually kissing Marcus Flint. Again. It was entirely different from before.

After a few moments, she stepped back her cheeks flushed.

“Night, Mac,” he said softly before pressing another quick kiss on her lips. 

“Night,” she said slightly breathlessly. She then stepped back and went to the door, glancing over her shoulder and smiling at him as she pushed it open and went inside. Shutting the door, she leaned against it a moment, bringing her fingers to her lips. 

She was surprised that Kara wasn’t waiting up for her, but she was slightly happy that she wasn’t, wanting to take the time to process the date herself. She went to her room and started getting ready for bed, a soft smile on her lips still.

Crawling under the duvet, she leaned back against her pillows, staring into space as she went over the night. There had been some awkward moments, for sure, but it had been rather nice over all. And she found that she was rather excited about going out with him again. And going to the Halloween Gala. 

Still smiling to herself, she reached over and turned her lamp off, then settled in to sleep. She couldn’t help but think that perhaps second chances weren’t so bad. 

But just as suddenly, there was a flash of Oliver. Emmie frowned. She had just had a perfectly good date and she didn’t want it to be ruined by thoughts of him. Punching her pillow a bit, she then settled down again, closing her eyes. 

She had wasted enough time on Oliver Wood. Now was time for her to focus on the future. And at the moment, it seemed like that was Marcus Flint.


	18. Third Chances

Oliver swayed a bit as he made his way to the door upon hearing the knock. He felt like it took longer to get there as the flat kept spinning around him, but eventually he made it over and swung it open.

“Ah, Perce!” he said cheerfully, leaning on the door for support. Percy just frowned at him and then stepped into the flat, looking around with an expression that clearly said he disapproved of its state. “Sorry… not much for cleaning…”

“I know,” Percy said, turning to look at Oliver as he shut the door. “You’re drunk. Again.”

“That brilliant observation of yours at work,” Oliver said with a dark chuckle as he walked over to the coffee table and picked up his glass, taking a drink. 

“I thought perhaps after the fight, you would have learned a lesson,” Percy said.

“Oh, I did,” Oliver said with a snort. “That Carpenter is scum and Mac doesn’t like fights.” Percy rolled his eyes.

“Not the lesson I was referring to,” he said, pointedly staring at the glass in Oliver’s hand. Oliver looked at it and then back at Percy.

“I don’t have to be back until tomorrow,” he said. “What’s it matter what I do today?”

“It’s 10 in the fucking morning,” Percy said, unenthused. Oliver laughed, finding it rather hilarious to hear Percy curse. It didn’t happen often. “I thought you were going to get things together. You were doing well…”

“Yea, well, there’s not much point in that, is there? Emmie thinks I’m worse than pond scum,” Oliver said. “Seems that ship has finally sailed… not that I was really going after it in the first place…”

“What about your job?” Percy asked. “Quidditch?”

“They all want me gone anyway,” Oliver said. 

“Then why the bloody hell am I here?” Percy shouted, finally losing his temper. “If you don’t even want to try, then why did you owl me?!”

Oliver stared at him a moment, his mouth opening and shutting a few times. Now that Percy was there, he wasn’t quite sure just why he had owled him. What was it? He had been about to write to Emmie but knew that wouldn’t work. So, he had owled his best friend. Why?

Percy pulled out the letter and glanced at it and then up at Oliver.

“I thought you wanted to change,” he said, this time a bit more softly.

“I do. Did. But then… Mac came over and… she’s gone, Perce. She’s never coming back,” Oliver said, the smile fading from his face. “Maybe she’s right… maybe I’ll never change… and this is just the new me...” Percy sighed.

“You can’t do this for her, Oliver,” he said. “You have to want to do it for yourself. And I refuse to believe that you can’t make a turn around...” 

“But if I don’t have her… what good is anything?” Oliver asked. “No. I don’t deserve her. I pushed her away. Before. And then I did it again.” 

He walked over and flopped down on the sofa, staring into space in front of him, half his drink sloshed out on his hand and the floor. Percy remained standing, watching him closely.

“What happened?” he asked simply.

“Heard about the fight and came here. I wanted… I wanted to tell her everything, but I couldn’t… instead I made an ass out of myself and she said that it wasn’t going to work and… I had to let go of her… and she had to let go of me…” he said.

“She’s not completely wrong,” Percy said. Oliver looked up at him blearily. “You’ve got to let her go. It’s doing you no good to hold on to her.” Oliver nodded.

“Yea… suppose that’s right,” he murmured. Percy looked around the room and then started walking around, gathering up bottles and rubbish. Oliver remained seated, thinking it over which was much harder in his rather drunk state. He knew that it made sense. He had screwed things up with Emmie in such a way that they could likely never work them out. Holding onto his feelings for her was what had gotten him in trouble that night, after all. 

But how did you let go of the only woman you had ever loved? That sounded easier said than done in his book. 

“Where’s the rest of the liquor?” Percy called out from the kitchen. 

“Cabinet next to the fridge,” Oliver replied, still staring into space. It took him a few moments before he looked up, wondering just what Percy was doing. Pushing up from the sofa, he made his way there, seeing Percy standing at the sink, methodically pouring out all his bottles into the sink. “What are you doing?” 

“Getting rid of any and all alcohol in the flat,” Percy said flatly without looking at him.

“No, but… I need that,” Oliver said without thinking, taking a step towards Percy. He then stopped, his words managing to cut through the drunken fog in his head. When had he gotten to the point that he felt that he _needed_ it? He had never said it, which only made him feel worse that he was saying it now.

“You don’t. If you want to save your career and hopefully the few friends that you have left, no more alcohol,” Percy said, fixing him in a stern glare. Oliver frowned. “This is just step one. It’ll take me awhile. Leave that glass here, take that water, and go lie down on the sofa until I’m done.”

Oliver said nothing, just did as ordered. He gulped down the water and then waited in the living room. Once done, Percy walked back, a mug of coffee in his hand. He handed it to Oliver and then walked over to carry-all that Oliver had just noticed. He dug around in it a bit then pulled out a small vial. He walked over and handed that to Oliver as well.

“Won’t completely sober you up, but it’ll get you a fair ways there. At least enough you can speak coherently,” Percy said. Oliver just stared at it. “I’m not going to have this conversation with you while you’re falling over drunk and it’ll take too long if I wait for you to naturally sober up.” Oliver swallowed and then took the vial, quickly drinking it. He winced at the taste, but Percy was right. In a matter of seconds, he found himself far clearer than he had been all week. 

Percy went back to the kitchen and then returned with a mug of tea in hand, grabbing one of the chairs from the table and pulling it over towards the sofa before sitting in it. 

“You obviously can’t do this on your own, Oliver,” he said.

“What gave that away?” Oliver asked, then winced at the harshness in his voice. Christ, did he always sound so jaded? This was his best friend he was speaking to. A best friend who was already going above and beyond what he deserved.

“I’m not going anywhere, so get used to it,” Percy continued unfazed. “Whether you want it or not, I’m going to help you get through this.”

“Is this what you did with George?” Oliver asked before sipping at his coffee. “Did it work with him?” There was a flicker of something in Percy’s eyes, but just as quickly as it had appeared, he was back to staring sternly at Oliver.

“For the most part,” he replied. “Still a work in progress there, though thankfully it didn’t get to the point where I had to throw out all his alcohol.” Oliver nodded and looked back over at the bag.

“You moving in?” he asked, registering that it was on the slightly large side.

“For the time being, yes. I don’t trust you to stay alone at the moment,” Percy said. Oliver looked over at him, his eyes wide. “You have a spare room. That’ll work for the time being.”

“I don’t-”

“Obviously you do. No use in arguing with me,” Percy said, cutting him off. “Now… think the first thing we need to do is find the source of all this… and I know it’s not Mac.”

Oliver just stared at him. He wasn’t ready to talk about that. He couldn’t. He hadn’t talked about it with anyone. 

“I’ll sit here all day and night waiting, but you need to talk about it, Oliver,” Percy said. Oliver took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he stared down at his coffee. He knew that Percy was right, but he had spent so long not talking about it, that he wasn’t sure what to say or where to start. “When did the drinking start?”

“Right after Ryan died,” Oliver replied dutifully. This wasn’t that hard. But it was getting close to difficult territory. “But it… it wasn’t like it was all the time. Just… when it got too hard…”

“I know that it’s not been easy for you,” Percy said softly. “If anyone can understand what it’s like, I think I would.” 

Oliver couldn’t bring himself to look at Percy, instead continuing to stare at his coffee.

“How did you do it? Keep from going mental?” Oliver asked.

“Work. Though I’ll admit that I spent an unhealthy amount of time at the office right after… wasn’t sleeping much,” Percy said with a sigh. “Wasn’t doing anyone any good. Shacklebolt finally ordered me to take a week off and deal with myself.”

Oliver looked over at him. 

“Mum came over and fussed over me, as she usually does, even though she was barely keeping things together herself. Got me to come home for a bit, and… that helped… all of us together… talking about him. Talking about the war,” Percy continued, his brow furrowed. “George wouldn’t come, but… for the rest of us, it was… good. Healing. I think it really helped us start to move forward a bit. Being able to rely on each other.” 

Oliver looked back at his mug, feeling ashamed that he had actively avoided going home or speaking to or seeing his parents since then. At first, it was because it was too painful. But then it was because he didn’t want them to see him struggle. And finally, he just felt too guilty to go home. That was about the time he had started drinking nearly every day. If anything to avoid dealing with the hurt and shame. When he was out with the lads or drunk, he didn’t have to think about much of anything.

“Why did you push us all away, Oliver? We would have listened. Done whatever we could to help,” Percy asked.

“Because I didn’t want you to see me weak,” Oliver replied before he could really think about it. “And I didn’t want to talk about Ryan. Still don’t. If I do, that makes it real.”

“But it’s been nearly two years,” Percy said.

“I know,” Oliver said, his voice rising slightly. He looked over at him. “I know. The rational side of my brain knows that he’s not coming back. But the other part… still likes to think he might walk in through that door any second now…” 

Percy was silent a few moments, a look of understanding on his face. How many times had he thought the same thing about Fred? Far too often. 

“It’s not weakness, you know. Grieving. Talking about how you’re feeling,” Percy said. “You need to get it out. It’s the only way you can… process it. Start to heal.”

Oliver said nothing as he took another drink from his coffee. Emmie had said the same thing many times in the past. But still, he wouldn’t open up to her. 

“Just… it’s been so long… not even sure where to begin… and part of me feels it’s too late,” he finally said.

“It’s never too late,” Percy said. “I’ve been… seeing someone. A therapist. And they told me… that unfortunately grieving is a lifelong process. It never goes away, though it gets manageable. And… whatever you feel at any point - it’s okay to feel that way. And it’s okay to talk about it.” 

Oliver looked over at him again.

“I’m not going to a therapist,” he said gruffly, instantly disliking the idea of baring his soul to a complete stranger who would only look at him with pity. Not to mention, imagine what the gossip rags would say if they got wind of it.

“I wasn’t going to tell you to do that, though you keep things up and I may drag you to one of those programs at St. Mungo’s for drinking,” Percy replied. Oliver gulped. That sounded worse. Then everyone _would_ know. Or, at least, they would know the extent of it. “That’s why I’m here. When you are ready to talk, I’ll listen. But beyond that, we have got to get your feet under you again. The Oliver Wood I know would never be so afraid to share his thoughts. Or lose himself at the bottom of a bottle. He’d get up, dust himself off, and go out there intent on doing better.” 

“Not so sure that Oliver still exists,” Oliver said ruefully.

“Oh, he does. Just got to coax him out,” Percy said, a small smile on his face. “And I’m sure the Oliver Wood that isn’t afraid of a bit of hard work is still in there as well.” 

“Not sure how that helps,” Oliver said. 

“It does. It’s going to be hard work. There are going to be setbacks. But I’m determined that we’re going to make progress. I might not be able to help with the quidditch bit, but I can help elsewhere,” Percy said, looking around the flat. “For starters, I can get this cleaned up, though I highly suggest you hire a cleaner for after I leave…”

“I did try to keep it clean… for a bit,” Oliver said. Percy just gave him a look, causing him to chuckle.

“Another thing, you’re not going out with Carpenter again,” Percy continued. Oliver snorted.

“Like I’d want to after last week,” he replied. 

“More than just him being a bad influence, I highly suspect that he’s been trying to keep you in this state for his own purposes,” Percy said. 

“How do you mean?” Oliver asked, confused.

“Spoke with Wickens and Martins… they said you hadn’t had as much to drink as you usually do. We suspect Carpenter was slipping you something,” Percy said. “I have no proof, of course. But to be safe, you shouldn’t drink with him again.” 

Oliver frowned as he thought it over. It was true that Carpenter hadn’t been so keen on him when he started first string. He had been the keeper before but got bumped to chaser so that Weathers could pull Oliver up earlier. Perhaps that was the reason. 

Not that it mattered at the moment. He was determined to stay far from him when he could. Granted practice tomorrow was sure to be awkward. 

“Next… I think it would be good to start reconnecting with people who are actually your friends,” Percy said. “You’re going to need the support.” Oliver whipped his head over to look at him, his eyes wide as his thoughts immediately went to Emmie. “Not Mac. I was thinking Bell, Spinnet, and Johnson. Even George, though he was ready to write you off after the fight… Sure he’ll come around, though.”

Oliver nodded, looking back at his mug. 

“And lastly - though we don’t have to do it right this minute - you are going to have to talk about Ryan,” Percy said. “That’s what’s at the bottom of all this, and until you start talking about him, you’re not going to get any better.” Oliver swallowed and nodded. He knew as much, but still. It was hard. 

“Just… never thought it’d be him… that if anyone was going to die in the war… it would be him,” he said softly. It was all he could really bring himself to say at the moment.

“I know,” Percy said softly. Oliver looked over at him again.

“You really think I can do this?” he asked. “Get out of… this.” He motioned around the living room. Percy smiled slightly and nodded.

“Yea… I think you can…”

~~~

Marcus turned on the wireless with a flick of his wand as he walked into his flat, a bag of groceries in his other hand. Adrian would be there soon enough, so he needed to get started on cooking. He hadn’t been lying when he said his best friend was over more often than not.

He couldn’t help but think that if things with Emmie continued, he’d have to tell Adrian to start learning to cook for himself. 

The thought of Emmie brought a smile to his face. The date had gone extremely well. What’s more, she had agreed to go to the Halloween Gala with him. Even though they had kissed, he could sense that she wouldn’t want to rush things, and he was okay with that. He hadn’t been in a real relationship himself in a very long time. Or ever, if he really thought about it.

Taking things slow was alright in his book.

“Just what did you do to Mac?” Adrian said as he walked in and dropped his team bag. “Wouldn’t stop smiling all day at practice.” 

Marcus looked over at his best friend, his eyes wide. She hadn’t? That was definitely good news.

“Just… cleared the air. Then asked her to the Halloween Gala,” he said, before turning back to pulling ingredients and such out of the bag. Adrian didn’t need to know about the kiss. That was just between them

“She agreed to go to the gala with you? A big, very public quidditch event with loads of reporters?” Adrian asked, a grin starting to appear on his face. 

“Yea,” Marcus said, appearing slightly stunned. “She did.” 

Adrian thought this over as he walked over to the fridge and got a beer out. He then studied Marcus, seeing the smile on his face as he began dinner preparations. He was pleased with his work. Marcus hadn’t dated in forever and he knew that Emmie hadn’t either. They would be good for each other. And he knew that Marcus had carried the guilt of sixth year with him a long time. Getting passed that was the final piece in the puzzle that would allow him to finally embrace the new person he had become. 

But at the same time, there was a very Wood-shaped cloud hanging over things. A cloud that apparently turned violent when hearing even hints of Emmie being romantically with someone else. 

“What’s that look for? I thought you wanted to push us together,” Marcus said, pausing in his task.

“It’s nothing. Just wondering about Wood. You heard about the fight?” Adrian said. Marcus nodded and returned to cooking. 

“Yea, something with him and Carpenter,” he replied.

“It was over Mac,” Adrian said. Marcus glanced at him, a small bit of worry in his eyes.

“Was it?” he asked.

“Carpenter said he’d shag her,” Adrian replied. Marcus took a deep breath and slowly let it out. 

“Pretty sure he reacted similarly back in school with me,” he said. “But… I’m not like that anymore. And I’d never… I wouldn’t do that to MacKenzie again.” 

“I know you wouldn’t. I’m pretty sure that she knows that as well,” Adrian said. “Wood on the other hand…” Marcus stopped again and walked over to the fridge, pulling out his own beer.

“She’s still not over him,” he said. “I can tell. Which is why I’m not rushing things. They were together for a long time. There’s a lot of history there.” 

“At least you’re being realistic about things,” Adrian said. “He was suspended, but… can’t really tell if that’s going to be a problem or not. He’s been unpredictable as of late.” Marcus was silent a few moments, taking another drink of his beer. 

“Regardless… she deserves to be with someone who is going to treat her right. Who’s… not going to hurt her again,” Marcus said. He looked over at Adrian. “I know I haven’t been the best, but… at the very least I can do that.” Adrian smiled and nodded, walking over to Marcus. He placed a hand on his shoulder, thinking over everything that they had been through the last few years. 

He had turned a new leaf. Become a new person. And he was happy to see Marcus finally starting to come out of his shell and enjoy life a bit more. To actively work towards being happy.

“I’ve no doubt that you can…”


	19. Of Galas & Exes

Emmie couldn’t help but gasp slightly in awe as she and Marcus walked into the grand ballroom where the gala was being held. It was in an otherwise abandoned-looking warehouse in a rather empty area of London. Outside, Emmie couldn’t help but grasp onto Marcus’ arm as she looked around warily, but once inside, it was as though they were in the grandest hotel in the country, everyone wandering around in varying finery and masks for the annual masquerade. 

It was her first time attending, though she supposed she could have gone while she was on reserves. Just never really thought about it. She suddenly wished that she had gone sooner. Dress shopping with Kara had proved rather fun. And she had to admit that Marcus looked rather dashing in his dress robes when he had arrived to pick her up.

“Something, isn’t it?” Marcus asked, looking down at her through his plain black mask with a smile on his face. Watching her reactions to everything was proving rather entertaining and worth the nerves he had gotten when he asked her. He also couldn’t help but think he had possibly the most beautiful date as well. She grinned and looked up at him nodding eagerly, her sheer black mask glittering slightly in the lights. It matched well with her dress. It was a rather modest cut, though made out of swathy, lightly black material that seemed to float around her. Her hair was down in soft waves that she had draped over one shoulder. 

“Yea. Don’t know why I never came before,” she said, her green eyes taking in everything. 

“Think I see Adrian over here,” Marcus said. Emmie turned her attention to across the room, seeing the chaser standing with his date and the rest of the Arrows. “Figure we start with the Arrows and then I can introduce you to the Falcons.”

“Sure,” Emmie said, smiling up at him as they made their way across the ballroom, her arm still tucked in his. 

“You clean up well, Mac,” Adrian said, grinning as she and Marcus walked up. 

“Not looking so bad yourself, Adrian,” she quipped in return. She couldn’t help but blush as she saw Wickens and Martins gawking at her from the corner of her eye. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the dress or her date, though she hoped it was the dress. 

“The rookie finally graces us with her presence,” Beauchamp said, smiling at her. His grin widened when he saw Marcus standing next to her, his hand now on the small of her back. “Doing good, Flint?” 

“Alright,” he replied, barely containing his smile. 

“There you are! Been looking all over for you!” Kara exclaimed as she ran up and hugged Emmie, who only rolled her eyes. The two had gotten ready together at the flat, though Fincher had picked her up before Marcus arrived. She looked amazing in a fitted, off-the-shoulder red dress, her mask decorated in feathers and sequins. Fincher stood just behind her, watching Flint cautiously. “Get off it, Fincher. We’re all friends tonight.”

He frowned at Kara, but just as soon as he saw the glare on her face he blushed slightly and offered Marcus a strained smile. 

“Good to see you, Flint,” he said. Kara smiled triumphantly as she winked at Emmie, who just chuckled.

“You too, Fincher,” Marcus said. He looked down at Emmie. “Would you like a drink?” She nodded. He bent down and kissed her cheek before walking over to the bar. 

“Still can’t believe you’re here… with him,” Fincher said, watching as Flint walked off. Emmie rolled her eyes.

“Please, Fincher,” she said.

“Do you not remember everything that happened sixth year?” he asked, turning to her.

“Of course, I do,” she retorted. “But we’ve talked about it and he’s apologized. People change.”

“Whatever he was like, he’s a good bloke now,” Beauchamp chimed in. “Quiet. Sticks to himself mostly.”

“He was a terror. You should hear the things he said to her,” Fincher said, looking at Beauchamp. “Like-”

“Enough,” Emmie said, laughing. “I swear. He’s not like that anymore.” She looked over at the bar, catching Marcus’ eye as he smiled at her. She couldn’t help the soft smile that came over her own face. “He’s… sweet. A bit unsure of himself at times, which was… well, unexpected.” She looked back at Fincher, who had an odd look on his face. “I think… I can trust him now.”

He studied her a moment before glancing at Kara, who had slipped her arm in his and was giving him an expectant look. He then sighed and looked back at Emmie.

“Suppose I can give him a chance,” he finally conceded. Emmie grinned. 

“Good. Then let’s have fun tonight,” she said. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Wickens shouted. Emmie looked over at him and chuckled. 

“Your drink, my lady,” Marcus said grandly as he returned. Emmie blushed again as she giggled. 

“Thank you, good sir,” she replied, taking the drink from him and then sipping it. She couldn’t help as a lightness came over her. Yes, this was going to be a good night.

~~~

Oliver tightly gripped his glass as he stared across the ballroom, seeing Emmie smile up at Marcus, her eyes twinkling from behind her mask. He hadn’t bothered getting one, not even planning on going. But for some reason, Percy had talked him into it. Really, he didn’t understand just why he was here at all.

It was torture. 

Watching Emmie from across the room, with none other than Marcus Flint. And he couldn’t even drink to get himself through the evening. Tearing his eyes away, he brought the glass of ginger ale to his lips.

“It’ll get easier,” Percy said from his side. Oliver looked over at him, his eyebrows raised.

“You know this from experience?” he asked. Percy sighed.

“It has to at some point, I reckon,” he said. 

“Where’s Audrey?” Oliver asked, thinking of Percy’s new girlfriend. He had been living at his flat the last few weeks and he was sure she couldn’t be happy about that.

“Thought it was more important that I be your plus one tonight,” Percy replied sensibly. “Besides, I still have lunch with her every day at the Ministry, so it’s not like we never see each other.”

“Still don’t think it was necessary to come tonight,” Oliver said, looking around the room. He saw Carpenter and some of his lads over in a corner doing shots, though he looked away quickly, seeing Wilda walking up to them with her husband.

“Need to test your self-control,” Percy said. Oliver just stared at him. “And at some point, you’re going to have to learn how to be around her.” He sighed and glanced across the room, seeing Marcus leading Emmie out to dance.

“She does look rather beautiful tonight. Happy,” he said wistfully. Percy walked over and smacked him on the back of the head. “Ow! No need for that!”

“Just making sure you weren’t thinking about doing or saying anything to ruin her night,” Percy said.

“Good to see you, Wood,” Wilda said as they reached the two, watching him cautiously.

“You too, Griffiths,” he said. She looked at his glass. “Ginger ale.” She smiled slightly.

“Surprised to see you here,” she said. 

“Surprised to be here,” he replied, looking at Percy. 

“Though he should get out a bit,” Percy said. “You look lovely, Wilda.” 

“Thank you, Percy,” she said. She turned to her husband. “Could you get me a drink, love?”

“Of course,” he said, kissing her on the cheek before walking off. Wilda turned to Oliver and then looked over at Percy.

“I take it you’re the one to thank for getting this one in line,” she said. “Finally.”

“Took a bit of effort,” Percy said, watching Oliver, who was frowning slightly. “Do not give me that look. If I hadn’t tossed out all your bottles, you wouldn’t have made it into practice.” 

“I-”

Oliver stopped speaking and just sighed. He knew it was the truth. Percy was still staying at his place, had even gotten it cleaned up and organized. And every night, rather than sit and drink his sorrows away, the two talked. Most of the time, it was just reconnecting. Talking about their days. Percy updating him on his vast family. Oliver talking about practice. 

Slowly, he started opening up more about Ryan and everything he had gone through the last two years. He even talked about Emmie and why he had pushed her away. Gradually, the walls he had built up were starting to come down. And bit by bit, he was starting to think that he could actually move forward.

Though being there tonight, seeing her. It brought back some of the heartache. But he knew Percy was right. He needed to let her go. Still didn’t stop him from wishing he could walk across the room, pull her from Flint’s arms, and whisk her away. Or go order a stiff drink.

“You have this,” Percy said softly from his side. Oliver looked over at him and nodded.

“We’ll see…”

~~~

Emmie sighed as she stepped out of the ballroom into a much quieter, empty parlour of sorts. While she was enjoying herself, she needed a moment to catch her breath. She had been on the dance floor nearly the entire time with Marcus and her feet were starting to hurt slightly. She’d have to put more charms on her heels if she was going to make it through the night.

Stepping over to the wall, she started studying the paintings, wondering just how they managed to get the place put together and what would happen to the paintings after the party.

“Oh… ehm, sorry…”

Emmie turned around, her eyes widening as she saw Oliver freeze, then start to turn around to leave.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, though then wondered just why she said such a thing. Oliver stopped and looked over at her, blinking slightly in surprise. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Congrats on the win,” he said. “Caught the match on the wireless.”

“Thanks,” she said, starting to wring her hands slightly. “Heard you were doing well.” He nodded and scuffed his toe against the floor.

“Just… trying to focus on getting back in shape,” he said. “Saw you were here with Flint.” She nodded. “How’s that going?”

“Good. Really good,” she said. “He’s… really great.” She wasn’t sure why she was stumbling through her words. This was just Oliver, after all. Just Oliver. Her ex-boyfriend. Right.

“You look… really great… tonight, Mac,” he said, taking a step towards her. “Really…”

“Thanks,” she said, blushing slightly. 

“And… I, ehm… well,” he stopped speaking, staring down at his feet. He swallowed, trying to think of something, anything, other than what he wanted to say. Which was that he never meant to push her away and to please give him another chance. But that would be stupid. She was at the gala with someone else. And having a good time, apparently. Percy was right about that. He couldn’t ruin her night.

He looked up at her, nearly catching his breath for a moment. She was staring at him, her eyes wide behind her mask and her cheeks slightly rosy. Her lips were parted slightly as she waited for him to say something. He had never seen her this dressed up before and he suddenly wished that he had begged her to go to the previous galas. 

“I hope you have a good night,” he said finally, offering her a small smile. He then turned and walked out of the room before he said anything else. 

Emmie stood there a few moments after he walked out, catching her breath. She had forgotten how good he looked in dress robes. He had appeared normal. Almost like he had been before. And as though he wasn’t drinking. She frowned slightly and shook her head.

No, she couldn’t think like that. She had put Oliver behind her. She was here with Marcus. Who had been nothing but wonderful. Yes, focus on that. 

“Emmie! What are you doing in here?” Kara asked as she walked into the room. “Something happen?”

“No, nothing. Just needed to catch my breath,” she said, smiling at her.

“So… you and Marcus, huh?” Kara asked, walking over to her. “Seems you two can’t get enough of each other tonight.”

“Yea… he’s been pretty wonderful,” Emmie said. 

“Never thought I would be out at an event with Marcus Flint as part of the group. And enjoying myself,” Kara said. “Seems that he has changed.”

“He really has,” Emmie said. Kara then looped her arm through Emmie’s and started dragging her out of the room. 

“So much more party left to enjoy,” she said. “Let’s get back to our handsome dates.”

They made their way back to the group, with Emmie stepping over to Marcus’ side. He held out a new drink to her, that she took and quickly sipped. She couldn’t help as her eyes drifted over across the room towards Oliver, who was standing with Percy, Wilda Griffiths, and her husband. His coach had just walked up with his wife and the group started chatting and laughing. He looked down at the glass in his hand and then up at Percy. 

She wondered why he wasn’t over with Luke and the others, but then remembered the fight. Of course, he wouldn’t be standing with them. She glanced over at the group, seeing Luke tossing his head back in laughter. He then looked over at her, a curious look coming over his face. She shook her head and looked back at her group, pushing him from her head. He was scum as far as she was concerned. 

“Everything alright?” Marcus asked. 

“Yea, fine,” she said, smiling up at him. 

She took a moment to really study him. They had been out a few times since he had asked her to the gala and each time she felt as though she was starting to understand this new Flint more. 

For a moment, she found herself getting lost in his dark eyes. They were a deep brown, with light flecks of gold in them. 

Wait, no. 

Oliver had light flecks of gold in his eyes. Flint’s were closer to black. She shook her head and just smiled as she leaned closer to him, going up on her toes and kissing his cheek. 

“Everything is brilliant,” she said.

“Up for another round on the dance floor?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She nodded eagerly. They put their glasses on a passing server’s tray and he led her out.

A shiver went through Emmie’s body as he placed his hand on her waist and pulled her closer. She looked up at him curiously, still not believing that she was here as his date. That she had kissed him. That she wanted him to kiss her again.

“What is it?” he asked, suddenly appeared a bit nervous. Emmie laughed softly.

“Nothing,” she said. She went up and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Just… never would have thought that someday we’d be here… dancing at a gala together.” He smiled and nodded.

“Me as well,” he said. “I still don’t understand why you were able to give me another chance.” Emmie shrugged.

“I told you… sometimes people deserve another chance,” she said softly. “And well, you never know where things may lead…” Marcus smiled at her.

“This is true. When I left home all those years ago… never thought it would lead me here. To you,” he said honestly. 

“Think I would have to say the same. You have definitely surprised me, Mr. Flint,” she said.

“And you’ve continued to surprise me, Ms. MacKenzie,” he said. Emmie realized at that moment that they had slowly stopped dancing, her arms around his neck as both his hands were on her waist. Her breath hitched slightly as he bent down towards her. Part of her was screaming that they were in the middle of the dance floor at an event where every player in the League was and the last thing she should be doing was snogging someone.

But then the other part of her mind just said, “Fuck it.”

She slowly grinned as she went up on her toes, meeting him halfway in a tender kiss. 

She didn’t care if everyone saw. 

~~~

Oliver sucked in a quick breath, feeling his heart break in that moment as he saw Emmie kiss Flint. He knew that he needed to let her go and move on. And that she would move on as well. But seeing it with his own eyes was something completely different.

He looked away, sipping at his drink. He could see Percy staring at him in concern.

“I’m fine,” Oliver said stiffly.

“Are you sure?” Percy asked. Oliver nodded, then put his glass down on a tray. 

“Thinkin’ I’m ready to go,” he said, starting towards the door. “Night, Wilda.” The chaser gave him a wave, though looked back at her husband, worry in her eyes. Percy said his good-byes and then quickly followed Oliver.

“You don’t have to go with me,” Oliver said. Percy sighed.

“That’s the thing about best friends,” he said. “We tend to stick around.” Oliver looked over at him, offering him a small smile.

“Thanks.”

~~~

Emmie laughed as she stumbled out of the building, holding onto Marcus as they followed the rest of the group. The last few glasses of champagne seemed to have gotten to her head a bit, though the brisk night air was helping to sober her up.

“So, after party?” Beauchamp asked. 

“Where is it?” Taylor asked, gripping onto her boyfriend’s arm.

“Think it’s at Walters,” Wickens said as he wrapped his arm around his date. Emmie frowned. If it was at Walters, then Carpenter was sure to be there. And she wasn’t keen on running into him. Marcus looked down at her, an expectant look on his face.

“Ehm… think I’m a bit knackered,” she said. 

“No worries,” he said, kissing cheek. “Think we’re heading home.”

“Have fun,” Taylor sang, waggling her eyebrows. Emmie blushed as she looked away.

“Don’t wait up!” Kara shouted cheerfully as she walked off with Fincher. 

“Shall we?” Marcus asked. Emmie held onto his arm tightly and closed her eyes, waiting for the familiar sensation of side-along apparition. When she opened her eyes, they were outside the door to her flat. She undid the lock and walked in, pulling her cloak off and dropping it onto a chair. Turning, she saw Marcus standing just inside, looking around.

“You can come in,” she said, feeling a bit more brazen than usual. She wasn’t sure if it was the night or the alcohol or both but decided to go with it. He shut the door and walked further into the living room. Emmie looked around, wondering just what to do now. 

“One more drink?” she asked, already starting for the kitchen as she stepped out of her shoes and glanced towards him. 

“Ehm, sure,” he said. Emmie quickly got two glasses of firewhiskey and walked over, handing one to him and then walking over to the sofa and sitting. He followed her, sitting next to her. Emmie wasn’t sure just why there was a surge of nerves going through her or why her stomach began churning slightly. She was a grown woman, sitting on the sofa with the man that she was dating. There was nothing unusual about this. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” Marcus asked before taking a large sip of his drink. Emmie nodded.

“Yea, I don’t know why I never went to any of the others before,” she said. She snapped her mouth shut, on the verge of mentioning Oliver. She had been with him during some of the others. She then took her own rather large drink, though immediately regretted it as her head started to swim slightly. 

“I’ve only been to one other, I think,” Marcus replied, suddenly appearing just as nervous as Emmie felt, glancing around the flat. Anywhere but at her. 

Merlin, why were they both acting like they were back at Hogwarts and a professor could walk in on them any moment, Emmie couldn’t help but think. She leaned forward and put her glass down on the coffee table and then turned to face him. Yes, this was the first time he had come into her flat. And the first time there was possibility that they might take things a bit further. So far there had just been a few kisses when he dropped her off after their dates. And neither had really said anything about whether or not they were official or exclusive.

But enough time had passed, hadn’t it? This wasn’t school. They were 22. And it had been a rather long time. She couldn’t help as her hands started getting a bit sweaty and her stomach turned again. 

_“Get over yourself, MacKenzie,”_ she thought as Marcus finally locked eyes with her, clearly seeing what was about to happen. She smiled slightly and leaned forward towards him. He barely had time to put down his own glass before her lips had reached his. Though rather than their previous soft kisses, this one was tinged in something more. A bit more heated. 

Marcus gripped her arms for a second before wrapping his around her and pulling her closer. For a moment, he was transported back to sixth year when all he could think about was getting Emmie in bed. Now that it appeared to finally be happening, he was suddenly rather anxious and unsure that he wanted to go forward this quickly. It had only been a few weeks. They were still getting to know each other in a sense. Sixth year Marcus would have likely slapped him for having second thoughts.

Emmie’s hands went to his chest and pushed off his outer robe, then went to work at loosening his bowtie, her slender fingers making quick work of it. 

But just as she started maneuvering herself closer, she stopped, pushing him away with one hand as the other came to her mouth.

“I’m so sorry. Did I… Did I do something wrong?” he said, his eyes wide in worry. Emmie quickly shook her head and then jumped up, shooting across the living room towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. He heard the water come on as he sat back on the sofa and ran his fingers through his hair. Truth be told, he was glad to be alone a bit to try and gain his bearings. His heart was still pounding in his chest. 

He glanced towards the bathroom and then pushed up from the sofa, heading towards the kitchen, figuring that Emmie had probably had a bit too much to drink. He quickly got her a large glass of water and looked around for any sort of potion cabinet that would have something for her stomach. Upon not finding one, he picked up the glass of water and walked back to the sofa, sitting again.

Emmie finally opened the door and walked out, looking spent. He held out the water and she walked over and took it, sitting next to him as she drank it. 

“Feel better?” he asked. She nodded slightly and then winced.

“I think I’m drunk,” she said a bit woefully before looking over at him. Marcus chuckled, then leaned over and kissed the side of her head. 

“Then the best thing is to sleep it off,” he said. 

“But I wanted to…”

“Another time,” he interrupted. “When you’re not drunk.” She nodded glumly and finished up the water. He had to give her props - he hadn’t thought she was that drunk in the slightest. Must have been good at covering it. He had to help her up from the sofa, she was so wobbly, and then over to her room. Emmie walked over and plopped down on the bed, still in her dress. She quickly laid down.

“You can stay… if you want,” she murmured, her eyes already closed. Marcus froze and looked around the dark room, contemplating. He probably should leave. Give her some space. “I won’t throw up again. And I promise not to jump you in your sleep.” He chuckled again and then slipped out of his shoes. He walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled in, then helped Emmie get under the covers. She immediately snuggled up to his side, her breathing evening out rather quickly.

While he wasn't exactly sure how things would have ended up that night, he couldn't help but think that this wasn't so bad as he closed his eyes and drifted off.


	20. The Art of Letting Go

Oliver wiped his brow as he stepped back and surveyed his work. In just the hour he had been at the shop, he managed to get one section of shelves cleaned and sanded, ready for paint. He smiled to himself, but then looked over and realized that there was still a fair amount of work left to go.

Some days he wondered if they were ever going to get this place ready. Especially since George had finally started cleaning out the workshop and spent most of his time there while he and Percy were out working on the main part of the shop.

“Not bad. But still need more before your penance is accepted,” George said, slapping him on the back. While his tone was light, there was still a bit of a harsh edge to it.

Oliver sighed, but didn’t respond. Percy had had him coming over after practice to help with the cleaning for the last couple of weeks. It seemed George still wasn’t so sure that this new Oliver was going to stick, though he didn’t blame him. It wasn’t like he had helped himself much in the past. But rather than push it, he just focused on helping George clean out the shop. 

Oliver nodded at George and then moved over to the next section, raising his wand and preparing to get started. 

“Surely by now we’ve earned a break,” Percy said, looking over at his brother. “I love cleaning more than the next person, but even I’m growing tired.” George looked around the shop and then nodded. 

“Suppose,” he said, moving towards a cooler where he kept some water. He then turned and tossed a couple bottles to Percy and Oliver before retrieving his own. “How was the gala?”

“Painful,” Oliver said truthfully. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Percy scoffed. Oliver just sent him a look. “Perhaps uncomfortable is a better word…” George snorted. 

“Just how bad was it?” he asked, looking at Oliver.

“Ran into Mac… with Flint,” he said before taking a drink. George’s eyebrows rose.

“So, it’s true?” he asked. “Never thought I’d see the day…”

“She seems happy,” Oliver said.

“And I’m sure it’s killing you,” George said dryly. Oliver just frowned at him. “Really, Wood. You’re off at some gala and see your ex with your sworn enemy. Actually, thought it was her sworn enemy as well…”

“Apparently he’s changed,” Oliver, unable to help the hint of bitterness that entered his voice.

“Mate, you have no room to talk,” George said, sending a pointed stare at him. Oliver sighed and looked away.

“Suppose you’re right there,” he muttered. Percy frowned as he looked back and forth between the two. He had been hoping that by bringing Oliver here it would help repair their friendship, not make it worse. “She did… seem really happy, though. Like she was having a good time.” 

George looked over at him, catching the look of pain that passed briefly over his face. Sighing, he walked over towards him.

“Tough break,” he said, gripping Oliver’s shoulder for a moment. Oliver just shook his head. 

“I know I have to move on, but… seeing her… and she was so…” he stopped talking and looked back at the shelves. “Doesn’t matter. She deserves to be happy. If it’s with Flint, then… I guess that’s it.” George looked over at Percy, his eyebrows raised. Percy just shrugged. “You’re right. I have no right to say anything.”

“I know how hard it is… letting go of things,” George said. Oliver turned to look at him. “I mean, I know it’s not the same, but…” He looked around the shop. “Couldn’t let go of this place.”

“Fred wouldn’t want you to,” Oliver said, frowning. “It’s different.”

“Yea, but… still have to let go of him,” George said with a sigh, looking back at Oliver. “Still working on that one. Why do you think it’s taking me so long to clean out the workshop and office?” Oliver took a deep breath and glanced over at Percy, who just gave him a small smile and nodded. Oliver sat down on a step and stared at the ground.

“Me too,” he said softly, not wanting to look at anyone. “Wish I could say it gets easier, but… it doesn’t. Still getting to the manageable bit, to be honest.” He looked down at the bottle of the water. He glanced up at George. “My whole world fell apart that day.” 

“Know the feeling,” George replied.

“Just… you know… it was… so random,” Oliver continued. “He was off to the shops to get something before we all met up that night… and then… I get the knock at the door… and he’s just… gone.” 

“You know we would have been there for you from the beginning,” George said, frowning. Oliver nodded, not meeting his eyes. 

“I know, but… I couldn’t… the pain was too much and I… I didn’t know how to handle it,” Oliver said. “And then I was in so deep… I was embarrassed. Didn’t want anyone to know how bad it was. Convinced I could get myself out of it.” He glanced up at George. “Something you said you understood.” George nodded. 

“Unfortunately, I’ve got an obnoxious family who refuses to give up on me,” he said, looking over at Percy. 

“Suppose it’s unfortunate for me as well. One of them’s my best friend,” Oliver said, smiling slightly as he looked over at Percy. 

“You both needed it,” Percy said as he huffed and shook his head. Oliver snorted softly and started to chuckle. George looked over at him and then started laughing as well.

“He’s got that right,” George said. “We’d both be lost without him. Likely still wallowing in our misery.”

“I am grateful for it,” Oliver said, looking back and forth between the two. “Might not seem so much like it at times, but I am.” 

“You’re already doing a lot better than you were,” Percy said. “Should have let me in a long time ago.” Oliver looked down, his thoughts going over the past couple of years.

“Yea… wish I had… probably would have saved a lot of people some grief,” he said softly, his thoughts going to Emmie. “Certainly know there’s loads I regret…” Both George and Percy were silent, likely guessing what he was thinking about. “She was just trying to help me, and I made life hell for her. I wish… wish there was some way I could make it up to her. Apologize. She didn’t deserve that…”

“Have you told her that?” George asked. Oliver looked up at him. He shook his head.

“Things are getting better for her. I don’t want to make them worse,” he said. “Probably best if I keep my distance for now.”

“Could help clear the air. Help both of you to move on if you got some closure,” George suggested. Oliver thought it over. While Percy had been talking to him lately about making amends, apologizing to those he had hurt or wronged, he wasn’t sure he could face Emmie just yet. It was hard enough bringing himself to contact his parents. 

“Maybe not just yet,” he admitted, looking up at George. “I’ll get there, but… I don’t want to make things… uncomfortable. Not when it looks like she’s starting to move on.” George nodded.

“Makes sense,” he said. “But you know Mac… she’s likely to accept it.”

“Yea,” Oliver said with a sigh. “Maybe… dunno. She’s… changed as well.” He furrowed his brow, thinking about their last argument. “And I’m fairly sure she’s given up on me.”

“All the more reason to get Puddlemere to the finals to show that you’ve changed for the better,” George replied. Percy shot him a glare. He had been trying to convince Oliver that he needed to get better for himself, not on some ill-advised scheme to win Emmie back. “I’m not saying try and win her back, Perce. Even you have to admit that it would be good for all parties involved if they cleared the air. They are bound to continue running into each other.” 

Percy sighed and shook his head.

“Just think we shouldn’t push it. He’s doing better, but all it takes is one thing to set him off again,” Percy replied.

“I’m sitting right here, you know,” Oliver grumbled. Percy looked over at him. “And I’m not about to backslide.”

“Better not. Audrey’s hoping that I can move back to my home soon,” Percy said.

“How’s that going, dear brother?” George asked with a sly smile. Oliver stared at him a moment, pleasantly surprised to see the old George reappearing. It came out here and there but was starting to pop out more frequently the further along they got into fixing up the shop.

“Well,” Percy said curtly before turning to go back to work. 

“Come on, Percy. It’s not like Oliver and I have anything going on in that department. Allow us to live a bit vicariously through you,” George chided. Oliver chuckled softly.

“No,” Percy said.

“Do I get to meet her eventually?” George asked. Percy only frowned at him. George turned to Oliver. “Have you met her?”

“No,” Oliver said, pushing up from the step. “Though I’m sure she _loves_ me.”

“She understands what’s going on,” Percy replied. “While she’s not… completely happy… she knows that it’s important I be here for the both of you right now.”

“She’s a saint in my book,” Oliver said.

“Would need to be to put up with Percy,” George said. Percy frowned at him again as Oliver laughed a bit louder. 

“He makes a point,” Oliver said. “Thought Penelope was a saint as well.”

“Do not bring up my ex,” Percy said.

“What? You make us talk about ours, but yours are off limits?” George said. 

“I haven’t pushed you on your exes,” Percy pointed out. 

“You made me talk about Spinnet the other night. Told me I should contact her,” George said. 

“I told you that I thought it wouldn’t hurt to reach out to old friends,” Percy countered. “I mentioned Bell and Johnson as well.” 

“I run into them a fair bit. Could possibly go out… all of us,” Oliver offered, looking over at George. 

“Not you too,” George scoffed. Oliver shrugged.

“I’m supposed to be spending time with them as well,” he replied, glancing at Percy.

“Not sure Johnson would be so keen. You know she and Fred were… talking again. Before…” he trailed off, looking down at the ground. Oliver shifted on his feet a bit. He supposed that could be awkward. 

“Don’t have to decide on anything right now,” he said quickly. “But should get back to work.”

“Yea… we should…”

~~~

Later that night, Oliver dropped his bag as he walked into his flat and looked around. He had told Percy to go meet Audrey, that he would be fine on his own for one night. There was no alcohol in the place, and he found he didn’t much need a drink at the moment. He’d probably end up going to bed early anyway, too tired from practice and then working with George. 

He felt better after helping out at the shop, though he knew he still had a ways to go before he felt completely normal. Walking over to the fridge, he pulled out another bottle of water and then walked over, seeing the post on the window ledge. Retrieving it, he walked over and sat on the sofa, putting the paper out on the coffee table. Looking through the news, he came to a large spread on the gala. There was one photo of Emmie walking in with Flint, her head dipped down slightly, though there was clearly a smile on her face. He flipped to the next page, preparing himself for whatever damage there was. Surprisingly, there was no mention of him, which was a first. And shocking. But there was definitely a fair amount of speculation on Emmie and Flint.

Frowning, he flipped back to the photo, watching as Emmie looked at the floor and then up at Flint, the happiness clear on her face. Sighing, he rubbed his face and looked around his now, finally, clean flat. His eyes fell on the photographs of him and Ryan that Percy had talked him to putting back up on the walls. 

The pain in his chest started up again - it was the same that always came up whenever he thought about Ryan or Emmie.

“This is what you wanted,” he murmured. And he knew that it was true though it hurt him. He had wanted Emmie to move on. To someone who was better than him. As hard as it was to believe, it seemed as though Marcus Flint was that person. 

He looked back down at the column, reading up on everything the writer had dug up on Flint. Outside of the feud back at school, there wasn’t a whole lot. Seemed he had been living rather quietly the last few years. Much more quietly than he had. 

Oliver’s fingers twitched and for a moment, he had the desire to get a strong firewhiskey. He even looked towards the door, thinking about the shop around the corner that stayed open late. If he got it now, he could finish it before Percy got back that night. Hide the evidence. But at the same time, he quickly pushed the thought aside.

Percy would know, no matter what he did to hide it.

Instead, he stood and grabbed his bag, heading out the door. There was only one place where he could clear his head.

~~~

Oliver waved his wand, watching as the quaffles that he had charmed to fly at him dropped to the ground. He wiped his brow, breathing heavily. He then looked to the side, hearing a lone person clapping from the lower level of the stands. His eyebrows rose as he saw Weathers standing there, his face unreadable. 

Oliver took a deep breath and then flew over, landing on the pitch and then walking the rest of the way to where the coach was standing.

“Not bad,” Weathers said, crossing his arms in front of him. “Though we both know you can do better.”

“Part of the reason I’m here,” Oliver said, leaning his broom against the barrier. “Thought I could get more work done.” Weathers nodded, though the look on his face clearly said that he knew it was something more.

“Clearing your head?” Weathers asked. Oliver looked around the pitch.

“Yea,” he said. He looked back at Weathers. “Look… about… before…” He looked down, feeling slightly awkward and unsure of how to continue. There was a lot he needed to apologize for, and he wasn’t sure where to start. “I just wanted to thank you for not… giving up on me. I know I haven’t been… that I’ve…” He shut his mouth at the same time embarrassed and frustrated. Why was this so hard to do? Percy had been fairly adamant that it was important for him to make amends if he was truly going to move on. For a moment, he thought about Emmie, but he quickly pushed that aside.

“I get it, Wood,” Weathers said before he could speak again. Oliver looked over at him. “I know things have been rough since your brother died. Lost my own during the first war.” Oliver’s eyes widened slightly. While the coach was very vocal, he rarely shared too much about his personal life. “I know how hard it is. And I won’t lie, I was a bit disappointed in you for a time - I was the one who convinced management to give you another chance. But I can see that you’re really trying. Finally.”

“Thanks,” Oliver said gruffly, his voice a bit thick. 

“And I also know that Carpenter hasn’t been helping. You weren’t doing much better on your own, but he was holding you back as well out of spite,” Weathers continued. Oliver frowned. “Got it out of him. He slipped something in your drink that night. Still… had thought you had a bit more sense in you.” Oliver just blinked. It didn’t make him feel any better, though part of him thought it should. He had still beat the crap out of his teammate. 

“He’s on rather thin ice. Management’s already been talking about a trade with the Pride for one of their chasers,” Weathers said. “But for you - I’m still going to hold the bar high. You have the ability to be really great, Wood. That hasn’t gone away. But you need to stay focused.” Oliver didn’t reply, his jaw clenched. “I know at times it seems like the world is going to shite around you, but it’ll sort itself out. You just gotta let it.” 

Oliver finally looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Weathers had a stern look on his face, though his eyes were a bit soft. 

“Don’t give this up,” Weathers said.

“I don’t intend to,” Oliver replied. He at least knew that was true.

“And for god’s sake, whoever is helping you with this, don’t piss them off. It’s working,” Weathers said. Oliver nodded. He didn’t think Percy would let him push him away again. Not now, at least. “You think you can get yourself sorted and get us to the finals?”

“Yes, Coach,” Oliver said, smiling slightly. Weathers gave him a short nod. 

“Good to hear. Now, get back up there. Let’s see what you can do when I’m charming the quaffles,” Weathers said, a small smile appearing on his own face. Oliver nodded and turned, taking a running start before he flew up in front of the goals. He hovered there a bit, adjusting his gloves and waiting. 

Weathers waved his wand and four quaffles flew up into the air. His sharp eyes watched as they hovered before suddenly all four were in motion. An amused smile came over his face as he managed to keep up with them. 

This was going to be a good workout.


	21. Taking the Next Step

Emmie glanced around, still not quite believing that she was sitting in Marcus’ flat. It looked all at once him and not him. It was very masculine - wood and dark tones. But at the same time, it was cozy, yet sophisticated. He had done well on the Falcons, that was clear. It was large and in a quiet residential district of Diagon Alley. And he lived alone, it seemed, though she was halfway surprised that Adrian hadn’t popped in as much as he was around. 

Since the gala, they had gone on a double date with Adrian and his girlfriend - another Slytherin from their year who had defected from the lot during the war. That was another shock. The fact that Emmie was dating and hanging out with Slytherins. 

Seemed the war had changed a lot of things.

She looked over at the open kitchen, seeing Marcus hard at work at the stove, a towel over his shoulder and his wand on the cabinet next to him. Part of her was nervous being here. The night of gala, she had been so sure that she was ready for that next step with him. But upon waking up the next morning, she found herself a bit relieved that nothing had happened. Outside of the fact that she had been much drunker than she thought, it was a much bigger deal that she thought it would be.

Granted, that shouldn’t have surprised her. Oliver was the only man that she had been with and it had taken them a fair bit of time before they slept together the first time. Yes, part of it was because they were young when they started dating, but also because Emmie had been nervous, building it up in her head a bit before then. Much as she found herself currently doing. 

Reaching for her glass of wine, she took a rather large sip. She wasn’t sure if that was where things were going tonight, but she was a bit on edge over it all the same. For his part, Marcus seemed a bit nervous as well. His brow was furrowed, intent on whatever it was he was cooking. The morning after the gala had been a bit awkward at first. When she woke up to find herself in his arms, the both of them still in their dress robes, neither were sure what to do or say. Though the tension had eased when he got up and made them coffee, leaving her to shower and change. When she had come out feeling a bit more human, he held out a mug to her. She quickly found herself relaxing, sitting at the island as he quickly whipped up breakfast for the two of them. She couldn’t help but think he looked at home despite it being his first time there. 

She couldn’t remember a time when Oliver had made her breakfast.

Of course, the mood had then been ruined - or well, changed - when Kara and Fincher stumbled out of her room, both hungover and roused from sleep by the smell of coffee and food. Emmie had to chuckle to herself, remembering the bright shade of red that Fincher’s face had turned as he tried to pull Kara’s robe around him, though it was woefully too small.

“What’s so funny?”

Emmie looked up, her eyes wide, not realizing that Marcus had been watching her. He had an amused look on his face. She stood and walked over to the island, leaning against it. 

“Just thinking about Fincher after the gala,” she said with a smile. Marcus chuckled.

“That’s a sight I’d rather not think about again,” he replied, turning his attention back to the pan. “Saw more of Fincher than I’d care to ever see.”

“He wasn’t able to look at me all week in the locker room,” Emmie replied. “Though didn’t stop him from coming over again.”

“So, Kara and Fincher… it’s official, is it?” Marcus said, looking up at her. Emmie nodded slowly.

“Apparently he fancied her in school but never had the courage to say anything,” she said with a sigh. “As for Kara, she always thought he was fit, but tended to stay away since he was my captain and didn’t want things to get awkward.”

“Seems like the world is finally moving on,” Marcus said. Emmie nodded, though her brow was a bit furrowed as her thoughts turned to Oliver. The latest reports had him on a hot streak. She then shook her head, looking up at Marcus and smiling. The last thing she needed to think about tonight was her ex.

“So, what are you making?” she asked, leaning over to look at the pan.

“Cajun Chicken Pasta,” he replied. “Hoping you like spicy.” Emmie grinned and nodded.

“Course I do,” she replied. 

“Good, because… it’s almost done,” he said. “Get those plates for me?” Emmie nodded as she walked over and picked up two plates with utensils stacked on top and walked them over to a table. Putting her wine glass down, she then put down the two settings and sat, looking over as Marcus walked over with the pasta and placed it down next to a bowl of salad. He then sat and reached for the wine bottle, pouring his own.

“Dig in,” he said. 

For a bit of time, there was silence as the two filled their plates. Emmie took the first bite of her pasta and nearly moaned at the taste. 

“Seriously, Marcus, where did you learn to cook?” she asked, looking over at him. He just shrugged, a tinge of pink in his cheeks.

“Like I said, my neighbor took pity on me and taught me a bit. Then… suppose the bug hit. Started picking up cookbooks and the like, trying to make everything that I could,” he said. “Not like I was going out much, as it was.” Emmie nodded.

“Why did you keep to yourself so much?” she asked, a bit taken aback by her own bluntness. Though at this point, she found that they had reached a certain level of comfort together. They had slept together. Well, literally slept together. Marcus just chuckled softly.

“With everything going on, thought it best to keep my nose down,” he said. “And I was still working through some things.” 

“Makes sense,” Emmie responded. “I know that I certainly stopped going out as much…” She frowned slightly, looking up from her plate to see Marcus studying her. “After Ryan Wood died… suppose it just made me realize how dangerous it was… and that they could get anyone. Anywhere.”

“But you still went back to Hogwarts that night,” he said. Emmie nodded, looking at her plate. 

“Kept in touch with some of the younger Hufflepuffs. They sent us word what was going down and we all went back to help,” she said. “It was the right thing to do.” She couldn’t help as a shudder went through her thinking back to that night. All the dead eyes staring up at her. Alex jumping in front of the curse. 

Emmie looked up suddenly, her eyes wide. Marcus had slid his hand over and placed it on hers.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, his thumb caressing her hand. Emmie swallowed and smiled.

“It’s over, right?” she said, reaching for her glass of wine. “So… how was practice today?”

~~~

Dinner passed quickly with lighter talk, but now the two were settled on the sofa in front of the fireplace, laughing at Emmie’s stories of the Arrows. The blokes had definitely grown on her and she learned that they were all a bit of pranksters. Just that day, Martins had pulled a fast one on Beauchamp that had the captain a bright shade of blue afterwards.

“I seriously hope they don’t get the idea to prank me,” she said, sitting back and leaning her head on his shoulder. “Though I’m slightly surprised they haven’t tried yet.” 

“Fairly sure they know you give as good as you get,” he replied. “If I remember correctly.”

“How long did it take Warrington to reverse that jinx?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Too long,” Marcus said. “You’d of thought I’d have learned my lesson then. Suppose I was a glutton for punishment.” Emmie chuckled.

“That would likely be accurate,” she said. Marcus laughed softly and looked down at her, for a moment taken in with the way her eyes sparkled. How had he never noticed that before? They both fell silent, looking at each other, before Marcus leaned down at pressed his lips against hers. Emmie sighed into the kiss, finding many of her worries from earlier starting to melt away. There was no reason to be worried about this, she decided.

She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek as he shifted so that he could face her. She couldn’t help but think it was very different from Oliver. 

_“No, Emmie. You are not going to let him ruin this,”_ she thought.

As if to make a point to herself, she sat up and wrapped her arms around Marcus’ neck, the kiss suddenly becoming much more passionate. 

“Whoa, Emmie,” Marcus said, pushing her back slightly as he tried to catch his breath, feeling the rather sudden shift. Emmie froze slightly, realizing that she was halfway climbed into his lap. “I mean… I’m… maybe just… slow down a bit.” 

“I’m… sorry,” she breathed, moving so that she was sitting next to him, though his arm was still around her.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize. Just… it’s been awhile for me,” he said, slightly embarrassed. “Got a bit ahead of me there.”

“Yea… suppose it’s been awhile for me too,” she admitted. Marcus nodded and looked away, likely thinking about Wood. “We don’t have to… we can take this a bit slower,” Emmie said as she looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Her head was still spinning just a bit.

“Thanks,” he said, then glanced around the room. “Ehm… how about we listen to the wireless?” he suggested. Emmie nodded quickly, eager for something to take her mind off the moment. 

“Sounds good.”

~~~

_Emmie was running through the courtyard, frantically looking around her. She couldn’t make heads or tails of anything, there were so many jinxes and curses flying about. She had been trying to follow Fincher, but he was long lost in the mayhem._

_“Emmie!”_

_She looked ahead, seeing the curse flying at her. Once again, she was unable to move, watching as the stream of light inched closer to her in slow motion. She knew what was going to happen next, but her heart still was racing as the only thing she heard was the sound of her ragged breathing._

_“EMMIE!”_

_Alex slammed into her, pushing her to the ground._

_“NO!!!”_

~~~

Emmie shot up, gasping for air as she looked around, unable to determine where she was, which only made her more terrified. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she struggled to breathe.

“Emmie… it’s okay.” 

Strong arms were around her, pulling her back against a firm chest. She closed her eyes as she tried to get her bearings, though that didn’t help as all she saw were the dead eyes of her classmates.

“It’s over. It’s okay.”

She was shivering as she opened her eyes and realized where she was. Empty wine glasses sat on the coffee table. The only light in the room came from the dying fire. She looked over her shoulder, seeing the outline of Marcus’ jaw. 

She gulped, not wanting to admit that for a moment, she thought that he was Oliver. Had hoped that he was Oliver.

“I’m fine,” she finally said, her voice soft. “I’m fine.”

“Do you have them often?” he asked. 

“Not as much lately, but I had them every night for a couple months,” she admitted. “It’s always the same thing. I’m back there… at the battle...” She stopped talking as more tears streamed down her cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly, still holding her firmly. She took a few deep breaths, feeling her heart rate starting to return to normal. For a moment, she was disoriented. Why was she still here? Oh right. They had put on the wireless. 

“You fell asleep and I didn’t want to bother you,” Marcus said, as she took in the blanket over the two of them. She must have fallen asleep leaning on him. Reaching up to grasp his arms, she closed her eyes, finally getting her breathing under control. “I figured it must have been bad, but…”

“I’m okay,” she said, opening her eyes and leaning away from him as she wiped her cheeks. “Still dealing with it, but… suppose it just takes time.” She looked over at him, smiling at him appreciatively. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, starting to stand. “Do you want some tea?” Emmie nodded and returned to staring at the table. Taking a deep breath, she slowly let it out. While she was a bit unsure of how things would turn out that night, she most definitely did not foresee them going this way. She could feel her cheeks heat up slightly. Merlin, she had had a nightmare around Marcus.

Marcus sat next to her again, holding out a mug. She took it with a grateful smile before taking a sip. He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to speak. 

“Not exactly how I saw tonight going,” she said, glancing at him. "Though I wasn't completely sure where it would go, to be honest."

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, a warm smile on his face. Emmie looked back at her mug, frowning slightly.

“It was… chaos,” she started. “We got there just before it all started and… once they broke through the protective barrier, it was as though hell broke loose.” She stopped, closing her eyes for a moment.

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” he said. Emmie looked over at him, smiling sadly.

“Probably best to get this out. If we’re going to keep seeing each other… you’ll hear it one way or another. Perhaps the earlier, the better. Decide if you want to cut and run while you still have time,” she said ruefully. Marcus flinched slightly.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he said. Emmie considered his words. While she could sense that he was being truthful, part of her still didn’t want to believe it. She supposed she could thank Oliver for that.

“It was bad… so many people died. And at times, all I can see are their faces. Their eyes. Open and unseeing. That’s what haunts me the most,” she continued. “I had fallen down and Fincher helped me up. He took off and I was trying to follow him, but I lost him. Then… there was a death eater. I watched him shoot the curse at me, but I couldn’t move. Didn’t even see who it was. I could only stand there and watch the curse come at me… then Alex, he pushed me out of the way. Took the curse for me.”

Marcus reached out and put his arm around Emmie, pulling her close to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“He was… writhing in pain on the ground… taking a hit that was meant for me,” she said. “And then… it took weeks for him to leave hospital. And they still don’t know if he’ll play again. At least we made up, but I still feel like it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said softly.

“I know but can’t help the way I feel. And Alex doesn’t blame me, but I still think that he should,” she said with a sigh. 

“Emmie… everyone gets afraid sometimes,” he said, looking down at her. She looked up at him. “Hell… you charged into battle, not knowing if you were going to live, while I… I was off hiding in another country. Think that makes you far braver than I am.”

“You were doing the best that you could to protect yourself,” she said, her brow furrowed. “If you had stayed… there’s no telling what would have happened to you. If your father had gotten to you…”

“But still… it was the easier route. I could have stayed like Adrian. Gone to fight. Stood up for what was right,” he said. Emmie studied him, realizing that perhaps everyone had their own demons to battle. 

“I don’t think anyone blames you. Lots of people went into hiding,” she found herself saying. “I don’t.” Marcus smiled slightly.

“I blame me,” he said. “There’s more I could have done.” 

Emmie sat up and put her mug down, then turned, taking his hands in hers.

“I don’t think you realize how much you’re doing right now,” she said. Marcus looked at her in confusion. “I know that you’re certainly helping me.” He blushed slightly and looked away. “Really, Marcus.”

“Doing what anyone else would,” he said softly. Emmie reached out and guided him to look at her. 

“No. You’re doing so much more,” she said before leaning in and kissing him gently. 

Marcus couldn’t help but wonder just how badly Oliver had hurt her for her to think that he was helping her. In his mind, he really was just doing what any other bloke who cared for a woman would do. 

But all thoughts were quickly pushed from his mind as he began moving his lips against hers, pulling her closer. Before had felt rushed. A bit out of place. But now… this felt more natural. 

He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair as the kiss moved at a leisurely pace. Emmie moved closer, her hand sliding down to his chest and then back up to his neck as her other moved around his torso to his back. 

Neither were quite sure who had started standing first. Who had pulled the other closer. Who had started moving towards Marcus’ bedroom. Who had started tugging at hems and working at buttons. 

But for the time being, it didn’t seem to matter.

~~~

Emmie felt a small smile tug at her lips as she pushed open the door to her flat the next day. She had woken up with Marcus’ arms wrapped around her and for a few moments, just stared at him as he slept, a bit in shock over how things had gone. But then a wave of happiness came over her and she snuggled up closer to him.

After they had both gotten up, Marcus had made breakfast. She had seriously been tempted to spend the day lying around in bed with him, but both of them had things to do, so she reluctantly headed back home.

It had been a bit of a rollercoaster - going from unsure if she wanted to go that far just yet, to nearly rushing into it. Then moving there at a slower pace. But it had felt right that second time. And nothing like she had expected. Old Marcus had been a bit rough and forceful. This new one had been slow and gentle, paying attention to her reactions and moving at a pace that worked for both of them.

“Well, well, look who’s doing the walk of shame.”

Emmie froze and looked over, seeing Kara smiling smugly at her from where she sat on the sofa, a mug of coffee in her hand, still clad in the yoga shorts and t-shirt that she slept in. Emmie frantically glanced around the flat.

“Relax. Fincher already left. Just me,” Kara said, standing. Emmie sighed and walked over to the island, putting her purse down on the counter and then pulling off her jacket. “So… you stayed over… take it things went well.”

Emmie chuckled as she walked over and got her own mug of coffee. 

“Yea, though… not as planned,” she admitted.

“Do tell.”

“Well… things were going that way, but… felt a bit rushed,” Emmie said, turning to face her best friend. “So, we put on the wireless. And then… I fell asleep and had a nightmare.” Kara immediately frowned as she hurried over to her.

“God, are you alright?” she asked. Emmie nodded, smiling slightly.

“We talked… about that night. And a bit more. Then…” Emmie’s voice trailed off as her smile grew and Kara grinned.

“Well, well,” she said. “Seems like you, my dear, certainly are moving on.” She turned around and grabbed her coffee off the island, walking towards the sofa. Emmie smiled but then quickly frowned. 

She looked down at her mug as her thoughts, once again, turned to Oliver. She was really moving on, wasn’t she? Just a moment ago, she had been rather happy, but she now felt an odd mixture of sadness and anxiety. Was she really ready for this? To finally give up on the idea of her and Oliver? Wait, where had that thought come from? She had given up on her and Oliver already. Hadn’t she? 

“Emmie?”

She looked up, seeing the look of concern on Kara’s face.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly. Kara rolled her eyes as she walked back over to her.

“If you’re thinking about Wood-”

“What do you expect me to do?” Emmie asked with a huff. “It’s not like I can just pretend he doesn’t exist! That he never existed!”

“Yea, and he broke things off nearly two years ago,” Kara replied. “And you said that he won’t change. That you _were_ moving on.” Emmie groaned as she ran her fingers through her hair. “What’s more, you just had a great night with a great guy who is mad about you. Who is treating you the way that you should have been treated all along. Why are you sabotaging yourself by thinking about Oliver?”

“I’m not sabotaging myself,” Emmie retorted. “I’m not going to go running off to him again, but… Christ, Kara. We _were_ together a long time. And I'm not even just talking about dating - we grew up together. And he’s the only other man I’ve been with. Of course, I’m going to think about him!”

“Emmie… are you still in love with him?” Kara asked, propping her hand on her hip. Emmie’s eyes widened as she hesitated a moment.

“I… no,” she said. Kara just narrowed her eyes at her.

“Just because the reports say he’s doing better doesn’t mean that everything’s changed,” Kara said. “And it doesn’t erase what he did.”

“I know!” Emmie shouted in frustration. “Merlin, I know!” 

Kara just stared at her, the worry returning to her eyes.

“I just… I know I’ve got a good thing with Marcus. And I want to focus only on that,” Emmie said. “But Oliver keeps… popping up in my mind eve n though I don’t want him to.” Kara sighed and walked over, pulling Emmie into a hug.

“I know it’s not easy. But really… this is your chance to move on, Em,” she said softly. “And - Merlin, I never thought I’d say this - Flint makes you happy. Really happy. I think you owe it to him to get it together and forget about Wood.” 

Emmie stepped back at looked at her, smiling slightly as she nodded.

“I know,” she said. “I plan to.”

“Good,” Kara said. She then grinned and turned, dragging Emmie with her towards the sofa. “Now… I want details about your date…”


	22. A Visit with the Past

Oliver found himself staring at the produce section of the store, a bit overwhelmed. He had gotten used to Percy cooking in the time he had been living with him and now that he was finally moved out, he found that he missed home cooked meals. Oliver had never been one for cooking - the most complicated thing he made was a grilled cheese sandwich - but figured it would be a decent habit to pick up now that he was spending more time at home rather than out. 

Though standing there now, he was beginning to think he was jumping into the deep end. Perhaps he should have started with recipes. 

Sighing, he turned. For tonight at least, he would get takeout again. Perhaps stop by Flourish and Blotts for some cookbooks. Cooking could wait until tomorrow when he had a better idea of how it went. 

He made his way out of the shop and was thinking about what he wanted to eat, when he turned a corner and nearly ran into someone, side-stepping out of the way just in time.

“Sorry,” he said, starting to continue on when he realized just who it was.

“Oliver,” Emmie said, her eyes wide. He swallowed and smiled nervously at her. 

“Hey, Mac,” he said, hoping he didn’t appear as nervous as he felt. Merlin, what was it and running into her when he least expected it? She glanced around the street before finally meeting his eyes.

“How are you?” she asked. 

“Good,” he said, willing his heart to stop racing. 

“Saw you lot won your match against the Harpies. Good work,” she said. “Seems you’re doing much better on the pitch.”

“Thanks. And good match against the Cannons,” he said. Emmie chuckled slightly.

“Not much of an accomplishment with the way they’ve been playing this season,” she said, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. 

“Still. You pulled off some decent tricks,” he said. Emmie smiled slightly, looking off down the sidewalk. “Right… suppose you’ve got somewhere to be…” As she looked back at him, he remembered the latest column he had read. She and Flint had been seen out on a date a couple days ago and it was accompanied by a photo of the two of them hand-in-hand, Emmie gazing up at him adoringly. Likely, she was off to meet him.

The familiar pain returned, though it wasn’t as strong this time. 

“Yea,” she said, motioning over her shoulder. “Just… meeting someone…”

“Yea,” Oliver said feebly. He looked at the ground and then back up at her after taking a deep breath. Here went nothing. “Hope things go well… with Flint.”

“Thanks… they are,” Emmie said awkwardly. “It was good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Mac,” Oliver said, still fumbling his words a bit. He started to turn and keep walking, hoping to get home in one piece.

“Oh, ehm, Oliver,” Emmie called out. He stopped and turned, seeing as she fumbled with her purse strap. “I… I’m going to visit Alex this weekend. You should… come with me… if you’re free that is.” Oliver’s eyes widened.

Go to visit Alex? His brother’s best friend? He hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the funeral. While he had been making progress, he wasn’t completely sure he was ready for that. Not to mention, he was fairly sure that Alex didn’t want to see him after everything he had put Emmie through.

“If you’re busy, I understand,” she said, taking a step towards him. “I just thought… maybe it would be good… for both of you.” He took in her hopeful expression and sighed.

“Ehm, yea… I think I can come by,” he found himself saying. Bloody hell, what was he getting himself into? Emmie smiled and nodded.

“I’ll, ehm, owl you the details, yea?” she said. Oliver nodded. “Right… see you then!” She then turned and started down the street, her wavy hair bouncing behind her. Oliver watched until she turned the corner and only then did he let out the breath he had been holding. 

“Merlin, I wish I could drink,” he muttered as he turned and started towards his flat. Dinner would wait. He needed to owl Percy. 

~~~

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Percy asked, his arms crossed as he stared down at Oliver. George sat in an armchair, also watching him closely. Oliver sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It came out of the blue and… it looked like she really wanted me to come along. So, I just… I said yes.”

“You know that she’s definitely with Flint now, right?” George asked. Oliver shot him a look.

“Yes, I know,” he said.

“Just making sure you weren’t thinking that this meant you two would get back together,” George said with a sigh as he leaned back in the chair. 

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Oliver said, frowning. “Though I’m confused as to why she wants me to see Alex. Said it would be good for both of us.”

“She’s probably read the papers about your progress. May think this means you’re ready to open up about Ryan and talk to Alex. They were best friends, after all,” Percy said reasonably. Oliver turned to look at him.

“Why would she care about that?” he asked. “She very clearly said that she was done trying to help me.” Percy sighed and shook his head.

“It’s Mac. I don’t think she has in her to truly give up on someone. For all we know, because she’s happy moving on, she may want you to be happy as well,” he said. “Regardless… I think you should go.”

“But… what?” Oliver asked, his palms starting to get a bit sweaty at the thought. 

“She probably thinks that she’s helping,” Percy continued.

“I got that bit. Just don’t understand why,” Oliver said, wiping his hands on his denims. “I mean… the last argument… she said that she was done.”

“Perhaps she’s had a change of heart,” George said lightly. “You know how Mac can be…”

“Could very well be doing this completely for Alex, now that I think about it,” Oliver mused. “They are really close. Though I’m not sure what good it would do him to see me. Unless he wants to pummel me.”

“I doubt that,” Percy scoffed.

“You weren’t there when he told me there’d be consequences if I ever hurt her,” Oliver said, frowning at him. Percy sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Look, the only way to find out why is to just go,” he said. “He and Ryan _were_ best friends. Maybe there’s more he can tell you. Perhaps it would do you good to talk to him.”

“Fairly sure I know everything that Alex does about my brother,” Oliver said, frowning slightly. “We were close too.”

“You think that,” Percy said. “But sometimes there are things we don’t tell our siblings that we tell our friends.” Oliver looked over at George, who nodded his agreement. This was true, he supposed. There were some things that he hadn’t told his brother, though he did tell him a lot.

Sighing he shrugged

“Then I guess I’ll go,” he said, leaning back on the sofa. 

“Good,” Percy said, smiling. 

“Just don’t get distracted by Mac,” George said, standing. 

“What? I won’t,” Oliver said, frowning again. George just chuckled.

“Right…” 

“Really! I won’t!” Oliver said, standing as well. 

“Later, mate!”

~~~

A few days later, Oliver stood behind Emmie, nervously looking around with his hands in his pockets to keep from wringing them. Once again, he was wondering just why he was there. He had nearly backed out twice after their talk, but Percy managed to stop him.

Besides, if Alex MacKenzie made his way back to the pitch, he was going to see him sooner or later. Best to get it out of the way now and in private.

The door open and Oliver froze, his eyes widening as he stared at the former chaser. Alex’s right side was covered in thick burn scars, though his bright red hair was styled in much the way he always wore. Despite the scars, it was clear that he had managed to stay in shape, though he was no longer playing. And he appeared just as surprised to see Oliver standing on his doorstep next to his sister. Meaning Emmie had clearly not told him that Oliver was coming. 

“Em… why didn’t you tell me you were bringing Oliver,” he said, stepping forward to hug his sister, though his gaze drifted back to Oliver.

“Thought I’d surprise you,” she said, stepping to the side and looking back at Oliver with a smile.

“Good to see you, Alex,” he managed to squeak out with a wavering smile. Alex nodded and then stepped back into the flat, motioning for them come in. Emmie walked through the door with Oliver following just behind. He looked around the flat as they went into the living room. His eyes fell on several photos of Alex and Ryan on the wall, though he quickly looked away. 

Emmie sat on the sofa as he moved to sit in an armchair, nervously running his hands up and down his thighs. Alex walked in with a noticeable limp and looked at the two. Waving his wand, he summoned three mugs of tea from the kitchen and then settled next to Emmie. Though he was trying not to, Oliver couldn’t stop staring at him, shocked to see the once top chaser marred in such a way. When Alex noticed, Oliver quickly looked down at his mug.

“So… read that you’ve been having a good streak,” Alex said towards Oliver. He looked up and nodded. 

“Yea… got on a new training regime,” he said. “Weathers is still set on getting to the playoffs.”

“Reckon he would be,” Alex said, seeming a bit anxious about something. He shot a look at Emmie, who was innocently sipping her tea. 

“What about you? When do they think you’ll be on the pitch again?” Oliver asked.

“Ehm… not sure at the moment. Still in physical therapy and got a bit of a ways to go,” he replied.

“But he’s doing much better. Doesn’t need a cane anymore,” Emmie said happily as she smiled at Alex. 

“Still not sure how well I can handle a broom, though,” Alex said. “Or catching and throwing a quaffle.”

“It’ll come,” Emmie said, patting his arm. Alex glanced at her and then over at Oliver as an awkward tension settled in the room. Oliver looked back down at his tea, once again wondering why he was there. “Didn’t your coach say he’s keeping a reserves spot open for you in case you’re good to come back in the second half?”

“Might be wishful thinking, Em,” Alex said, looking at her.

“You’ve made amazing progress, Alex,” Emmie scoffed, shoving his shoulder slightly. “Don’t downplay that.”

“Yea, walking around without my cane is one thing,” Alex said. He then looked at Oliver, staring at him a few moments before sighing. “Suppose we should get into why you’re here.” Oliver frowned slightly. This had been a set-up? Oh Merlin, he _was_ going to rail into him, wasn’t he? Oliver gulped slightly, still afraid of Alex even though he was injured. He was sure that he could still do some damage.

He also remembered Alex’s threat all those years ago when he and Emmie first started dating. Looked as though the older MacKenzie was about to make good on that.

Alex didn’t move from the sofa, instead looking down at his mug as Emmie reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. Wait… _what_ was going on?

“You should know the full truth,” Alex started.

“The truth? About what?” Oliver asked, even more confused. Alex nodded, as though he had come to some decision, and looked up at him.

“About me and Ryan,” he said. Oliver’s brow furrowed. Were they not best friends? Had they had some sort of falling out just before Ryan’s death? It hadn't surprised him that Alex had taken Ryan's death hard - perhaps this was the reason why. “We were, ehm… we were together.” Oliver just blinked. Surely, he didn’t mean what he thought he meant? There was no way Ryan would keep something like that from him.

“You were always together when you weren’t on the pitch,” Oliver said, his mind starting to spin. Alex took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“We were… in love,” he said. Oliver’s eyes widened as he stared at Alex a bit. He then put his mug down and leaned over, putting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his face. 

“You were in love?” he asked, not looking at Alex as he ran through every memory he ever had of his brother. This couldn’t be true. How could it be true? Surely, he would have noticed or… Obviously Oliver had screwed up in some way. If Ryan had felt that he couldn’t share something this big with him. It was getting harder for him to breathe as the ever familiar shame and guilt rolled through him.

Why had his brother not told him?

“We’d been together about a year when he died. We were going to tell everyone… that night,” Alex said. “I know this is probably a shock-” A bark of harsh laughter left Oliver’s lips, cutting him off. Emmie whipped her head over to look at him, confused by his reaction.

Oliver pushed up out of the chair and began pacing. 

“You and my brother… were... together?” Oliver asked, glancing over at him. “I don’t… how… impossible…” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Impossible,” he muttered. 

“It’s true,” Emmie said, now frowning. She had assumed that Oliver would be shocked by the news - she was - but she hadn’t expected that he would react quite like this. Oliver stopped pacing and looked at her.

“You knew, didn’t you?” he said. 

“I-” 

“You knew and you didn’t tell me,” Oliver stated, his face now contorted in anger. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me something like this?!”

“Don’t yell at her!” Alex shouted, stiffly pushing himself off the sofa as he glared at the keeper. Oliver whipped his head over to look at him. “This isn’t her fault!”

“This… I…” Oliver laughed hollowly and shook his head. “I need to go.” He then charged towards the front door and out of the flat. Emmie looked over at her brother worriedly.

“Well… that wasn’t exactly how I thought that would go,” she muttered.

“Just how _did_ you think that would go, Em?” Alex asked, though he didn’t sound angry. More frustrated than anything. He sat back down and rubbed his face. “Not everyone is like you.”

“But he had a right to know,” Emmie said, sitting next to him. “And I thought it would be good for both of you to talk about it. To talk about Ryan.”

“I’ve wanted to tell him, Em, but… in my own time. I get that you were just trying to help, but I should have been the one to decide and reach out to him,” Alex said, a painful look on his face. “It’s a lot for someone to take in. Especially someone like Oliver.” Emmie frowned. “Did you stop to think about what it could do to him? Probably off picking up a bottle of firewhiskey right now.”

Emmie’s eyes widened as she dropped down onto the sofa. Shit. She hadn’t thought about that. She had only thought that since he appeared to be doing so well that he might be able to handle this. And that perhaps he and Alex could help each other through their shared grief. While she had suggested in on a whim that day she ran into him, she had convinced herself since that it was a good idea. But if it was such a good idea, why hadn’t she told Kara about it? 

And she certainly hadn't thought that she might push him back into a downward spiral.

“Oh, god,” she muttered, her hand coming to her mouth. “What have I done?”

“It’s… I get it,” Alex said. “I know you just wanted to help.” Emmie shot up from the sofa.

“I gotta go. I need to talk to him. Stop him,” she said, heading towards the door. 

“Em,” Alex said, stopping her. 

“No, Alex. This is my fault,” she said. “I have to do this. Fix this.” He sighed and shook his head. In some ways, it seemed Emmie would never change. Just a few weeks ago she had declared that she was finished trying to help Oliver and here she was, running off to try and save the day. But he couldn’t help but think that it’s what Ryan would want. And that it was something Emmie needed to do.

“Go,” he said, finally. “Ryan wouldn’t want us to let him fall again.” Emmie nodded and then ran out of the flat.

~~~

Oliver sat on the sofa, staring at the bottle. He didn’t even realize that he had picked it up until he arrived back in his flat and looked down, seeing the paper bag in his hand. He then pulled it out and placed the bottle on the table. He had been staring at it for a good 10 minutes or so.

Too anxious to remain seated, he stood and started pacing in the living room. He knew that he should owl or floo Percy. Get him over here. If he stayed alone, he wasn’t sure he had the self-control to keep from opening it. 

There was a knock at the door, and he stopped, looking at it. Perhaps Percy had put some sort of charm on the flat to alert him whenever alcohol was brought in. Oliver wouldn’t have put it past him. He walked over and opened the door, then stopped breathing for a moment.

“Emmie,” he said softly. That was the last person he expected. She pushed passed him and into the flat, stopping short when she saw the bottle. Whirling around, she stomped up to him as he shut the door. 

“You can’t do this again, Oliver,” she said, her eyes alight in anger. “You’re better than this.” 

“Emmie-”

“You’ve been doing so much better. Please, don’t throw that away,” she pleaded. “I know it’s my fault. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have taken you to see him without knowing for sure that you were ready.”

“It’s fine, Em,” Oliver said.

“No, it’s not! You went and bought a bloody bottle of firewhiskey,” she shouted.

“But I haven’t opened it,” Oliver said. 

“And what was with that reaction?! I know it’s a shock, but do you know how much it took for Alex to tell you?” she continued, seeming to not really be listening to his responses.

“I know.”

“You have no idea what hell he’s been through. Because of Ryan’s death and the battle… and then keeping this secret,” she continued. Oliver didn’t reply, just stepped around her and started pacing again, his gaze going towards the bottle a few times. “Say something, Oliver!”

“What do you want me to say?!” he shouted back, whirling around to look at her. “I… I spent the last two years falling apart because I couldn’t get over the death of my brother and then today… I find out…” Emmie frowned. 

“I thought you would have been more understanding,” she said, clearly upset with him.

“It’s not the fact that my brother was gay,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m not angry about that.” He stared at her a moment, before turning back to start pacing again. All the progress he had made, and he still struggled to open up to her. To let her in. Why was it so bloody hard? “Why are you even here? I thought you said you were done with trying to help me.”

“I couldn’t let you backslide because of my mistake,” Emmie said. “And… I can’t help it. I still worry about you.” Oliver stopped pacing and looked at her. 

“Why?” he asked. He couldn’t fathom that she would ever be worried about him again. Not after everything he had done. Especially not now that she was in a relationship with someone else. There was no way.

“Because I still love you and I don’t want to lose you forever,” Emmie blurted out. Her eyes went wide as her hands flew to her mouth. From that reaction, it was obvious that she hadn’t intended to say that. Oliver just blinked, completely losing the ability to speak. 

She still loved him? Even now?

“I can’t… I can’t…” Emmie stuttered. She then turned around and ran out of the flat without another word. Oliver walked over and sat on the sofa, staring at the bottle yet again. 

His brother had been gay. And he was dating his best friend, Alex MacKenzie. In love with him, even.

And Emmie was still in love with him even though she was dating Marcus Flint.

Bugger, where did he even begin processing all this?


	23. Facing the Truth

Emmie sat on the sofa in her flat, staring blankly ahead of her. Why had she said that? What the hell had she been thinking? She was just supposed to go make sure that Oliver didn’t drink himself to death because she, in her stupidity, forced him to face something he wasn’t ready to face yet. Not confess that she still loved him. 

She was happy with Marcus. Happy to be in a new relationship. Eager to see where it would go.

So why had she just told her ex-boyfriend - a man that she was determined not to go back to - that she was still in love with him and didn’t want to lose him? Hadn’t she told him that she was done with this? Told herself that? Why the hell had she just thrown herself right back into the fire?

Sighing, she reached up and rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. She wished Kara was there so they could talk it over. Though at the same time, she was glad that she was out with Fincher. She’d likely yell at her. Of course, then she would offer her some sort of sage advice. 

“What the hell have you done, MacKenzie,” she muttered to herself, thinking she could go for some of Kara’s advice right then despite the yelling.

To make matters worse, she had just run out of there, leaving him alone with a bottle of firewhiskey. That was just as stupid as blurting out that she was still in love with him. She stopped rubbing her head and stared ahead. 

She was still in love with him, the realization hitting her like a erumpent. Part of her had always known this, of course - feelings like that took time to fade. But she hadn’t allowed herself to think about it or admit it out loud. And she wasn’t sure where to even begin unpacking all of this.

“God, I fucked up,” she muttered to the empty flat.

A knock at the door tore her from her thoughts. She frowned as she stood, not recalling anyone who was supposed to come over. Standing, she quickly made her way to the front door, pulling it open.

Standing on her doorstep was Oliver.

“I didn’t drink it,” he said immediately. “Poured it down the drain.”

“Oh…” she said, unsure of why he would come all the way over just to tell her that. But then, of course, he wouldn’t come over just to say that. She had just run out of his flat after telling him that she loved him.

“Can I come in?” he asked. Emmie nodded and stepped back, letting Oliver into the flat. He didn’t sit, just remained standing as he ran his fingers through his hair. Emmie shut the door and walked over, hugging herself.

“I wasn’t angry about Ryan being gay, so you know,” Oliver said, turning to face her. “I was shocked, yea. But I was angry that… that I somehow failed him as a brother so much that he didn’t feel like he could tell me about it.” 

Emmie stared at him a moment and then sighed.

“I’m fairly sure that’s not why he kept it from you,” she said, stepping towards him. “I mean, Alex told me that he was afraid to tell me, even though he knew that I’d still love and accept him.”

“But I obviously _did_ do something,” Oliver said, turning away from her and beginning to pace. “I failed. At everything. I wasn’t there for Ryan. Certainly, wasn’t there for you. And then… all the shite I did… You didn’t deserve that. You deserved someone who knew what to do and say when Diggory died.” 

Emmie remained silent, just watching him. 

“When Ryan died, I couldn’t… I didn’t know what to do. I was filled with this immense pain that wouldn’t go away and I couldn’t face a life without him… he was always the one that talked me out of stupid things. Told me what to do when I didn’t know myself,” Oliver continued, still not looking at her. “But the drinking… it helped numb the pain. And… Merlin, then it got so bad… I didn’t want anyone to see me like that.”

He stopped pacing and looked at her, the pain clear in his eyes.

“Everyone always held me to this… high standard. Myself included. And I fell so far from that. I couldn’t,” he stopped speaking and swallowed. “I failed. I failed all of you.” Emmie blinked as tears filled her eyes. All she had wanted was to be there for him. For him to open up and let her in. She had known it must have been bad but seeing him so broken and raw in front of her, she almost couldn’t take it.

“I never thought that you had failed,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t think anyone did. I only thought that you were hurting.” 

“But I did fail you,” he said, stepping over to her, though he looked to the ground in shame. “I cheated on you. Yelled at you. Said horrible things. Pushed you away. And then I couldn't even save you at the battle.”

“What are you talking about?” Emmie asked. Oliver looked up at her.

“I saw the death eater shoot the curse at you. I tried to get there. To warn you. Merlin, I shouted your name so loudly, I thought I’d lose my voice. And then I tripped,” he said. “I couldn’t look up for a bit, terrified that I’d see you dead on the ground. God, I thought I had lost you and… for a few seconds my entire world fell apart all over again.”

Emmie felt her heart begin to pound. She hadn’t known that. She knew he had to have been nearby as he helped her up rather quickly after Alex got hit. Oliver had tried to save her at the battle.

“Then I heard you crying and I looked up… seeing you on the ground next to Alex,” he said. “I couldn't stop thinking that it should have been me. That’s the fate I deserved, not him.” 

“Then why did you sneak out the next day? Why didn’t you stay?” she whispered. “I wa-… I needed you to stay.”

“I didn’t deserve another chance. I thought you’d be better off without me,” he said.

“Don’t you think you should have let me be the judge of that?” she asked. “I wanted to help you.”

“I know,” Oliver said softly. “But at the time… I didn’t think anyone could help me. And I knew that you would rather suffer at my side than look for your own happiness. That’s why I said all those things back when we broke up. It was the only way I could get you to leave and move on,” he said. “I didn’t mean any of it… Merlin, I regret everything. I’m so sorry, Emmie.”

She stared up at him a moment, swallowing hard as the tears fell down her cheeks. 

Everything they had been through. The drinking. The cheating. The nights she cried herself to sleep over him. The pain. The struggling to get over him. All the times she blamed herself for not being good enough to help him.

Only to find out that he pushed her away because he thought he didn’t deserve her or her help. That he was embarrassed to show her just how much he was hurting.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead she looked away, covering her mouth. She then looked back at him. Bloody hell, how did she respond to all of this? Apparently the words sorted themselves all on their own.

“I blamed myself,” she found herself saying. “I thought that I wasn’t good enough for you and that’s why you pushed me away.” Oliver shook his head quickly.

“I never thought that, Emmie,” he said. “Never. I pushed you away because I _knew_ that I wasn’t good enough for _you_ and I didn’t want to hold you back. I just wanted you to be happy... God, I really fucked up. How could I fuck up this badly… I… I still love you too… Always have… Probably always will.” 

They stared at each other for a long time, neither speaking nor moving. Finally, Emmie took a deep breath and looked away, walking from him. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, wiping at her cheeks. She looked back over at him. It was the only thing that she could think to say. “I honestly don’t know what to do, Oliver.”

“I don’t either. But… I just… I needed to tell you,” he said. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect anything between us to change. I know that I’ve used up all my chances. I just… I don’t want you to blame yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.” Emmie gulped. 

“About what I said before-”

“It’s okay,” Oliver said, cutting her off. “I… I’m really trying. Percy’s helping me to stay straight. But… I’m not doing it on some sort of mission to win you back. I’m not that deluded. You deserve to be happy. And I know that’s with Marcus now.” Emmie just stared at him, realizing that she hadn’t once thought of Marcus since Oliver walked in her door. “Truly.”

“I see,” she whispered. 

Before either of them could say anything more, there was another knock at the door. Emmie turned to look at it, frowning. She glanced back at Oliver before walking over to the door and opening it. 

“Ready to go?” Marcus said, though as soon as he took in her state, he immediately frowned. “What’s wrong, Emmie?”

“I… I…” she stuttered, too stunned to form a proper sentence. Marcus leaned in, looking to the living room where he saw a shocked Oliver standing there. He looked back at Emmie, his look clearly questioning the presence of her ex-boyfriend.

She was looking over at Oliver, a pained expression on her face.

“I was just leaving,” Oliver said quickly. He then walked to the door, Marcus stepping aside to let him leave. After a moment, Marcus looked back at Emmie.

“We need to talk...”

~~~

Oliver sat in silence on the sofa, staring at the coffee table. Percy came out of the kitchen, two mugs of tea in his hands. He gave one to Oliver and then moved to sit in the armchair.

“So… that was a lot for one day,” Percy said.

“You’re telling me,” Oliver muttered. 

“Ryan and Alex… to be honest, I’m not that surprised,” Percy said. Oliver looked over at him, frowning slightly. “Really, you didn’t see it?” Oliver shook his head. 

“I… Alex said they were together only for a year before he died,” Oliver said, bringing the mug to his lips and sipping at the tea. “And I didn’t really think about it, to be honest. They were always hanging around together…”

“Oh, it was there before that,” Percy said. “Dare say I saw some of it at school.” 

“How would you know?” Oliver asked. 

“I _am_ very perceptive,” Percy reminded him. “Just didn’t really think it mattered. Wasn’t any of my business.”

“It doesn’t matter. I just wished that Ryan had told me,” Oliver said. “Or felt comfortable enough to tell me.”

“Sure he had his reasons,” Percy said. “And likely nothing that was your fault.” 

“Emmie said Alex told her that he wanted to keep it a secret for a while. They were going to tell all of us the night he died,” Oliver added. “But then after, he couldn’t decide if it was even worth mentioning…” Percy nodded slowly. 

“So, after that… Mac came over, said she still loved you. And then you went over to Mac’s,” Percy said. “After pouring a 20-galleon bottle of firewhiskey down the drain. Good job on that, by the way.” Oliver returned to staring at the table.

“It was like… I couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of my mouth. Spent so long keeping it in, but… suddenly, I just had to tell her everything,” he said, gripping the mug tightly. “How Ryan’s death destroyed me. Why I pushed her and everyone away. That I thought I had lost her at the battle.” Percy sat up. In all their talks, Oliver hadn’t mentioned this. “I saw the curse coming for her and tried to get to her. I tripped. That’s when Alex jumped in instead.”

Percy remained quiet as Oliver sighed and shook his head, laughing dryly.

“It doesn’t change anything. I know this. But… when she said that she still loved me. I don’t know. I just… I had to explain to her. Tell her everything. Christ, she thought it was her fault. That she wasn’t enough to help me… couldn’t let her continue to blame herself for something that wasn’t her fault,” he said with a sigh. “And then Flint showed up.”

“What?” Percy asked, leaning towards him. “He came to her flat?” Oliver glanced at him and nodded.

“Seemed they were supposed to go on a date. I didn’t stick around to see how that went,” Oliver said. “Figured I had already done enough damage just by being there.” Percy just sighed and shook his head.

“I’ll admit, you had bad timing with that, but… you did both need to talk, I think. If anything for closure,” Percy said. Oliver just stared at him. “How do you feel?” He shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But… I think that… I think I can finally let her go. If I haven’t already fucked things up with her and Flint. Merlin, I should have explained to him.” He started to stand from the sofa.

“I don’t think you should do that right now,” Percy said. Oliver stopped and looked over at him. “But… I do think there is someone else that you should speak to.” Oliver didn’t say anything. “Pretty sure that you should talk to Alex.”

“Yea… suppose you’re right…”

~~~

For the second time that day, Oliver stood nervously on Alex MacKenzie’s doorstep, waiting for him to answer. When the door opened, Alex didn’t look as surprised to see him there this time.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said immediately, not wanting him to slam the door in his face before he could explain. “About earlier and how I reacted. I wasn’t angry with you. Or about you and Ryan.” 

Alex didn’t say anything, just stepped back and motioned him in. Oliver walked into the flat and made for the living room, though he didn’t speak. Alex walked in behind him and lowered himself down on the sofa though Oliver remained standing.

“So… you were together for a year?” Oliver asked. Alex nodded slowly. 

“Officially. Though I think we both had feelings for each other longer than that,” he said. Oliver thought back to what Percy had said earlier.

“Since school?” he asked. Alex shrugged.

“Looking back, yea… I think that's about when it started. But I was confused. For a long time,” he said. “I didn’t talk to anyone about it – not even Ryan. Though he knew. Took him kissing me for us to even talk about it directly, though I avoided him a few weeks before I built up the courage.” Oliver didn’t speak, just taking in the story. “And even then… I wasn’t ready to tell anyone. Took Ryan a long time to convince me that we could.”

“But… you two dated women,” Oliver said, feeling a bit awkward talking about this with him. Alex smiled slightly.

“Trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t gay,” he said. “Ryan was… well, he liked both men and women…” Oliver’s eyes widened, wondering just why Ryan had never told him he was bisexual. Blimey. He wondered if there were any other secrets his brother had kept from him.

“Why did he never tell me? Or our parents?” Oliver asked. Alex took a deep breath and slowly let it out. 

“I think… in the beginning, he wasn’t sure how you would take it. And then being in the League and… we were caught up in the fame and such,” Alex said. “And then when we finally came clean to each other… he wanted to come out with it right away, but I was too nervous… I wasn’t sure if I was ready for the attention it would bring… I was scared… Even though Ryan tried to tell me that it didn’t matter as long as we had each other. And that our families would accept us. I wish that I had listened to him and…” Alex trailed off. 

Oliver walked over and sat down in the armchair. 

“He could have told me,” he said softly. “You both could have. I would have been happy for you.”

“Yea… but… it’s not just something that you blurt out over dinner,” Alex said. “I didn’t even tell Emmie until a month or so ago.”

“So… she didn’t know,” Oliver said. Alex shook his head. “Is there… anything else that… he didn’t tell me?”

“Outside of the fact he was dating his best friend?” Alex asked, a small smile on his face. Oliver just stared at him. “He was transferring to the Wanderers.”

“Heard about that. Was it for you?” Oliver asked. 

“Nah. They offered him a much better contract than the Wasps. Though, I was certainly happy about it,” Alex said.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Oliver asked.

“Not sure. Think he just wanted to have everything lined up before he mentioned it. And well, he knew that your father wanted him on Puddlemere and he… just didn’t want that. Wasn’t sure how he’d take it,” Alex said. He snorted slightly. “Here I was worried about how our families would take us to being together and he was worried about telling your dad he didn’t want to play on Puddlemere…”

“You know we would have been happy for you,” Oliver said again. Alex nodded. 

“I know that… now,” he said ruefully. “Wish I would have figured that out sooner.” He then looked over at Oliver. “Take it Emmie came over.” It was Oliver’s turn to look away. “How did that go?” He took a deep breath and slowly let that out.

“I… she said that she still loved me and didn’t want to lose me, then ran out,” he said. “Then I went to hers and… told her everything. Apologized. But then her boyfriend showed up.”

“Flint, right?” Alex asked. Oliver nodded. 

“I got out of there as fast as I could,” he replied. 

“She does still love you, you know,” Alex said, surprising him. Oliver looked up at him.

“But… I don’t think we can work things out,” he said. “There’s… too much there…”

“I’m not sure if you two are meant to get back together or what, but… I do think that you’re meant to be in each other’s lives,” Alex said. Oliver frowned. “Christ, Oliver. How long have you two been friends?”

“Yea, but… I was pretty awful to her,” he said. 

“Which I’ve some words for,” Alex said, suddenly frowning. “I know things were rough, but did you really have to be such a dick?” Oliver swallowed and looked down at his hands. “Merlin, you made Flint look good.”

“I know,” he said softly. 

“And the other women-”

“I know. I was… there’s no excuse. I’m even sure why I did any of it,” Oliver said quickly, cutting him off. “I don’t expect her to forgive me.” Alex sighed.

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you, mate,” he said. “Suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.” Oliver nodded.

“Suppose that’s true…”


	24. Where Do We Belong?

Emmie continued to glance at Marcus, who was now seated on her sofa while she paced. She was chewing on her thumbnail, trying to decide where to even start. With everything that had just happened, she had completely forgotten that they were supposed to go out that night. 

For his part, Marcus seemed to be patiently waiting for her to start. Merlin, how did she handle this? It was bad enough that he had walked in on her and Oliver, even if nothing had been going on.

“So, you know that I went to see Alex today,” she said, still pacing.

“Yes,” Marcus said.

“Well… I ran into Oliver a couple days ago and invited him to come with me,” Emmie continued. Marcus couldn’t help but frown slightly. “Before you get angry with me, it was a bit of a rash thing - I didn’t expect him to say yes, really - but I thought that it would help. There was something about Ryan that he didn’t know that only Alex could tell him.” She stopped pacing and turned to face him, noting the slightly dazed look on his face. She hadn’t realized how fast she was speaking.

“Ehm… I think I follow,” he said. Emmie took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“So, it turns out that our brothers weren’t just best friends… they were in love,” Emmie said carefully. “Alex told me a month or so ago, and I thought Oliver should know. At first, he didn’t seem to take it well. He stormed out. And then I realized that he very well could go on a binge, so I followed him home, since it would have been all my fault and I couldn’t have that on my conscience. We got into a bit of an argument, so I left...”

Chewing on her lower lip, Emmie looked away, knowing that she should probably tell him everything. That she told Oliver she still loved him. Marcus was her boyfriend, after all. But what did it matter? She and Oliver were over. Weren’t they? Emmie was starting to give herself a headache. 

“So… he came here to apologize?” Marcus asked. Emmie looked back at him and nodded.

“It… it was like… the floodgates opened. Everything came out,” she said. 

Somehow managing to keep an even tone, Emmie worked her way through everything that she and Oliver had spoken about before Marcus arrived, though she kept a few details to herself. She felt a bit guilty about it, though she told herself that it was between her and Oliver. And that it wasn’t important as she had chosen Marcus. 

When she was done, she stood still, holding her breath as Marcus stared at his hands for a few moments. The longer he sat there silent, the worse she felt. Merlin, this was mad. There was no way Marcus would consider staying with her after all this.

Of course, that would be the moment where she wondered if she even wanted him to. She quickly shook her head, focusing back on Marcus.

“I swear, I’m not going back to him,” she said, her voice quivering slightly. Marcus finally looked up at her.

“Emmie… do you still love him?” he asked softly. Emmie’s mouth dropped open, but she couldn’t speak. “I mean, it’s obvious. Why you took him to see your brother. Why you went to his place afterwards. You still care about him.”

Emmie moved to sit next to him, taking his hands in hers.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly. “I choose to be with you. You’re my present and hopefully future. Oliver is my past.”

“I’m not so sure that that’s true,” Marcus said slowly. “At the very least, he’s an unresolved part of your past… meaning he’s fairly set in your present.” Emmie shook her head.

“I’m done with him,” she said, but even as the words left her lips, she knew it wasn’t true. Frowning, she looked away from Marcus, hugging herself after she let go of his hand. “I’m not done with him, am I?”

“Doesn’t sound that way,” Marcus said with a sigh. 

“I want to be. Or at least… I want to be over him or… I don’t know,” she said. She looked over at him, wishing he or someone would just give her an answer. Tell her what to do or feel. 

Marcus was silent as he thought over everything she had just told him and everything that he had sensed and knew. He still thought that she deserved better than Oliver, but he had to admit that it seemed the keeper was starting to get his life together. He had apologized for what he did, though he suspected it would take time for Emmie to trust him again. But right now, it was obvious that they still cared very deeply for each other. The more she said she wasn’t going back to him, the more it sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than him. And he could see why. There was a lot of history there. Oliver had admitted that he would always love her. And she all but admitted that she still loved him. But where did that leave him? He knew that he wasn’t in love with Emmie but had hoped perhaps he would be someday. Now… he wasn’t sure what the future held. He thought for a few more moments, coming to a decision of sorts. 

Marcus took another deep breath.

“Emmie… I think there's some things that you need to work through,” he said, feeling a slight pain in his chest. “Before we can explore what this is between us.”

Emmie started blinking rapidly as she looked away, obviously trying to hold in tears.

“Are you breaking up with me?” she whispered. “Suppose I don’t blame you…”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said quickly, taking her hand and caressing her palm. “Just… I think perhaps we should pause things until you can get to some sort of… place of understanding with Oliver.” Emmie looked over at him. “I think that we have a good thing. And that it could be something more. But Oliver’s been a shadow hanging over us ever since we started dating and you need to deal with that - whatever that entails.”

Emmie swallowed. She wasn’t completely sure what she was feeling at the moment. She had thought she was ready to move past Oliver, though today proved that untrue. However, she still wasn’t sure that she could trust him again. At the same time, Marcus continually proved that he was a good man and great boyfriend, and she wasn’t ready to throw that out on the chance that Oliver may have finally changed. 

“But I meant what I said. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait until you figure things out,” he continued. “And I’ll still be here for you - even if it’s just as a friend.”

Emmie could only stare at him, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks. She didn’t deserve this man, she thought. Perhaps she should let him go so he could find another woman who wouldn’t be nearly as complicated or come with as much baggage as she did.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Marcus smiled slightly.

“I knew what I was getting into when we first started dating. There’s no need to feel bad about it,” he replied. He then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll just... head out.” Standing, he then turned towards the door and left the flat.

Once she was alone, Emmie leaned over and buried her face in her hands. She knew that he was right, but now she had to face a bigger conundrum.

What did she want?

~~~

“Should have known you’d come by,” Alex said, stepping back and letting Emmie in. “You look like hell.”

“Feel about like it,” she said, walking into the flat and going straight to the kitchen, where she pulled out his best whiskey and two glasses, then walked back into the living room. It was late. She had spent a few hours crying and fretting over what to do, before deciding that she needed to get out. With Kara out with Fincher, she felt as though Alex was the best place. 

“Bringing out the big guns, are we?” Alex asked, sitting on the sofa. Emmie huffed and looked up at him from where she sat on the floor, her hair falling out of her ponytail and her eyes slightly bloodshot from crying. “Not complaining.”

“I went to Oliver’s. We started arguing and then I ended up telling him that I still loved him,” she said, opening the bottle and pouring large portions for the two of them.

“I know,” he said. She paused and looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. “He came over earlier. Seems my place is the place to bare your soul today.” Emmie shook her head and lifted the glass to her lips, taking a large drink. “What happened with Flint?”

“He gave me time to work out whatever it is going on with Oliver before we start things up again,” she said glumly. 

“Wow… he really is a good bloke,” Alex said, stunned, reaching for his own glass.

“Yea, I know,” Emmie replied. She looked up at him. “What do I do?” Alex snorted. “I’m serious! Tell me what to do!”

“I can’t tell you that, Em,” Alex said. “You need to figure that out yourself. Do you want to give Oliver another chance or do you want to stay with Flint?”

“That’s the thing… even if I choose, Marcus… Oliver is just… always there,” Emmie said. “Even if not physically, he’s constantly in my head.” She looked over at her brother. “What’s that look for?” Alex chuckled softly.

“Em, you and Oliver have always been in each other’s heads,” he said. Emmie frowned. “You fancied him since you were children and I’m fairly sure that he fancied you about that long as well. And you were friends for a long time. Then you dated for three years. It’s been nearly two years since you broke up and you can’t stop thinking or talking about each other.”

“But he cheated on me, Alex. I can’t just forget that. Or how he pushed me away. And how am I supposed to know that he won’t relapse?” she asked. “Yea, he’s been doing well. But it hasn’t been that long…”

“That’s the hard part. Trusting again,” Alex said with a sigh. “But… it’s not impossible. And you don’t know that he won’t relapse. He very well could. But I think the difference is… he knows that he’s not alone now. That he’s got Percy and the others. You.” Emmie looked down at her glass.

“I shouldn’t… I don’t know why I keep going back to him,” she said softly.

“That’s obvious. You still love him. Said so yourself,” Alex said. “And… it’s who you are. I’ve never seen you give up on anyone. Well, you did give up on Flint, now that I think about it…” 

“That was different,” Emmie said dully. “He was horrid from the start back then. And now he’s a wonderful, kind man, who I know would make me happy.”

“Do you?” Alex asked. Emmie looked up at him again. “Do you know that Flint would make you happy?”

“He was making me happy,” she said. 

“Oliver made you happy too,” Alex returned.

“Before,” Emmie said. “Why are you trying to get us back together?”

“Because Ryan and I always thought that you two would be the real deal,” Alex said with a sigh. “Call me a hopeless romantic.” Emmie rolled his eyes.

“Love isn’t like fairy tales, Alex,” she said. 

“I know. It’s painful. It’s hard work. It sometimes keeps you up at night, going back and forth between shouting and bawlin’ your eyes out,” Alex said. “And sometimes… you lose it.”

“But sometimes you find it again,” Emmie said softly. Alex smiled slightly and nodded.

“Yea, sometimes you do,” he replied. Emmie sighed and took another drink. “Any closer to figuring out what you’re going to do, kid?” She shook her head and stared at her glass. “What are you thinking?” Emmie tilted her head to the side, swirling the liquid around in her glass.

“I think… one thing that I do know… I can’t walk away from Oliver,” she said. “I just… I can’t. I tried, gods know I did, but I just couldn’t do it. I don’t know what that means… Definitely don’t think I’m ready to trust him again. To go down that road. But…” she looked up at Alex, “you’re right. I can’t give up on him.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” Alex replied. “There’s nothing saying the two of you can’t get back to being friends. Even if you had said that you wanted to give things a chance with him again, I would have told you to take a step back and start there.”

“But what do I do about Marcus?” Emmie asked, frowning. 

“Be honest with him. Tell him that you can’t cut Oliver out of your life, but you aren’t sure just what role you want him to play yet,” Alex said.

“He’ll break up with me for sure,” Emmie said with a sigh.

“Do you want to stay with him, Em?” Alex asked. She was silent for a few moments. 

“I don’t want to throw away what could be a good thing on half a hope,” she said. “But… I’m not sure if it’s fair to Marcus. I mean, what would I even say to him? ‘Hey… let’s date… but just until I get a good idea whether or not my ex is going to keep his shit together.’” Alex snorted. 

“Probably wouldn’t say that,” he replied. Emmie glared at him.

“I wouldn’t,” she said. 

“I know.”

Emmie looked back down at her drink, her brow furrowed. 

“I think… maybe it’s best if I not date… anyone. For the time being,” she said. She looked up at him. “It’s really not fair to Marcus to lead him on if I’m not sure.” Though as she said it, she winced. Merlin, this sucked.

“I’d say that’s the responsible thing to do,” Alex said. “Better for Marcus.” Emmie sighed.

“I just… feel rotten for Marcus,” she said. “I do really like him. And he deserves to be happy too.” 

“Don’t forget that you deserve to be happy as well, Em,” Alex said. She looked up at him and smiled slightly. 

“I am happy,” she said. “I’m happy I got you back. That I’m playing first string. I’ve got Mom and Da, my friends. I don’t need a boyfriend or a man in general to make me happy.” Alex chuckled.

“That’s the truth,” he said, putting his glass out to her. Emmie clinked hers against his and they both took a drink. “Feel better?” She nodded.

“Yea… I think I do,” she said. And it was the truth. While she knew this meant ending her relationship with Marcus and trying to come to some sort of happy medium with Oliver - there was so much left to work with that - she felt clearer. 

“I’m going to have to talk to both of them,” she said with a sigh.

“Wouldn’t do it at the same time,” Alex said. Emmie shot him a playful glare. “I know, I know. Maybe take some time to think about it. I know you’ve made up your mind for the most part, but you don’t have to rush off into something right now. It is nearly midnight, after all…”

“I wasn’t going to run off this minute,” she scoffed. 

“Take a week,” Alex said. “Don’t do or say anything until next weekend. Sometimes sleeping on it helps with getting the wording right.” Emmie nodded slowly, finding that that made sense. “And since it is so late… think you should probably stay here tonight.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, taking another drink. She smiled at him. “Merlin, I’m glad that we worked things out.” Alex laughed again and shook his head. 

“Little did I know this now meant I’d become the Kara replacement,” he said. 

“You’re not the Kara replacement,” she said. “She’s on a date with Fincher.”

“So, I’m the Kara backup,” Alex replied.

“No. You’re my big brother,” Emmie said, grinning. “The one and only.” 

“Suck up.”

“Love you, too.” 

~~~

“Take it you had another grand night with Marcus,” Kara said from where she was lounging on the sofa when Emmie walked in the next morning. Emmie just snorted as she made her way to the bathroom where they kept a stock of hangover potion. She and Alex had been up until nearly 3 am drinking and talking and she felt rather rough. All she wanted to do was take the potion, drink some water, and then bury herself under her duvet for a few more hours.

“What the hell happened to you?”

Emmie stopped and looked over at her best friend. 

“I don’t want to get into it,” she muttered before turning and shuffling towards the bathroom again. 

“Did something happen with Marcus?” Kara asked, jumping off the sofa. “If this was all some bloody ploy-”

“Wasn’t a ploy,” Emmie shouted from the bathroom. Kara stopped, confused. 

“Then what’s going on?” she asked. Emmie walked out of the bathroom, feeling a bit better. Though she still kept up a steady stride to the kitchen. 

“Can I get some more sleep before we get into this?” Emmie groaned.

“Where were you last night?” Kara asked.

“Alex’s,” Emmie replied, sticking her head in the fridge. 

“You stayed the whole time?” Kara asked.

“No. I took Oliver,” Emmie said, shutting the fridge, a bottle of water in her hand. She then started for her bedroom. Kara’s mouth dropped open. 

“WHAT!?”

“I’m going to bed. We can talk about this later,” Emmie said. 

“No! You are going to tell me exactly what happened yesterday,” Kara demanded. Emmie winced as part of her headache came back. She whirled around.

“I will tell you everything, Kara. Just please… let me get some more sleep?” she asked. Kara sighed.

“Fine. But you’re going to fess up to everything. Later,” Kara said. 

“I will,” Emmie breathed. She then turned around and walked into her room, shutting the door behind her. 

Bugger.

~~~

“WHAT!” Kara shouted a few hours later. Emmie winced as she sipped her tea. After a nap and shower, she felt much better and still rather clear-headed, but Kara’s exclamations were starting to bring back her headache. “Why didn’t you send me a message? I would have come home!”

“I didn’t want someone else to have their night ruined. Besides, I think it was best to go to Alex. He had good advice,” Emmie said. Kara sighed and shook her head.

“Seriously… I can’t believe that you’re even considering giving Wood another chance. He _ruined_ things with Marcus,” Kara said.

“A) I’m not rushing to get back together with him, and B) he didn’t ruin anything,” Emmie said. “I took care of that on my own.” 

“But still… are you sure you want to chance even friendship with him?” Kara asked. 

“Yea. I am,” Emmie said. 

“And you’re just going to end things with Marcus?”

“I’m taking the high road. It’s not fair to drag him along while I figure things out. Besides, I think I need this time to focus on myself,” Emmie said.

“But you’ve had two years to do that,” Kara said.

“And I spent it worrying and pining over Oliver,” Emmie countered.

“True…”

“This time, I think I can really just focus on me. I won’t be so worried about Oliver. And I’m not going to completely stop seeing Marcus. Just… going to focus on quidditch,” Emmie said matter-of-factly. Kara sighed and shook her head. 

“When are you planning on telling them this?” she asked.

“Next weekend. Alex suggested I take a week to think over what I’m going to say,” she said. 

“Good luck, Emmie.”

“Going to need it…”


	25. The Talk(s)

Emmie sighed as she stepped back from the door, waiting for Oliver to answer. She felt much calmer after taking a week to really think things over. She and Kara had had many long talks when she returned home from practice over the week and she felt sure in her decision. 

And ready to face Oliver again.

“Mac,” Oliver said, looking slightly surprised to see her on his doorstep. And relatively calm and under control considering their last few interactions.

“Could I come in?” she asked. He nodded and stepped aside, waiting for her to walk in before shutting the door. A jolt of nerves ran through him. He wasn’t sure why she was there, though thankfully, he didn’t think she was angry at him. Which was another thing that puzzled him. He was fairly sure that he had made things more difficult with Flint and she wouldn’t be happy about that. He had fully expected her to come over all week and ream him out for breaking them up. 

Emmie took a deep breath and then faced him.

“Did you mean everything that you said last weekend?” she asked. 

“Yes, of course,” he replied. Emmie nodded slowly as she looked around the flat, carefully taking in the photos and it’s clean state.

“Been talking to Percy,” she said, walking over to the wall and gazing up at the photographs. “He says that you’re really making progress.”

“Hasn’t been that long, but yea, suppose compared to before it’s a lot,” Oliver replied. Emmie looked over at him, her green eyes unreadable. That was a first. Normally he could read her like a book. And now he had no idea what she was about to say. 

“He thinks that you’ll keep it up,” she said. “Do you think that you will?”

That was a rather difficult question to answer. He wanted to say yes immediately, but at the same time, he knew how easy it was to fall back into his old ways. All it took was one night out. One random, difficult memory. He still struggled with getting those under control. Though it helped that anytime he started feeling overwhelmed, he could owl or floo Percy or George. And he was meeting up with them and the girls fairly regularly. Getting out of the flat and spending time with all of them was proving to be far more healing that he had expected.

“I know that I’m going to try. And that I don’t want to go back to how I was,” he said, finding it as best an answer as he could give. Emmie seemed to consider this before deeming it acceptable. She stepped towards him.

“That’s good to hear,” she said. “I really do hope that you continue working on things. I only ever wanted the best for you.”

“I know,” Oliver said softly, his heart beginning to ache. He knew it. This was the moment when she told him that she had her closure and she was going to walk away from him so that she could focus on her own life and happiness. It was what she should do, but he hoped that perhaps Emmie could find it in her to allow him back into her life. Not as a boyfriend, of course, but at the very least as a friend.

Emmie swallowed and looked down at her hands. 

“It’s been awhile since we’ve really spent any time around each other, hasn’t it?” she asked. “I almost don’t know how to act around you anymore.” She looked up at him. “But… suppose that’s not so bad. Makes it easier for us to start over.”

Oliver felt his mouth drop open as he just stared at her. She was giving him another chance? Why? Though just as quickly, he knew why. This was Emmie, after all. Growing up, she had always been quick to forgive. Willing to help. Some things about her would never change.

“But… Marcus,” he said, finding full sentences too difficult at the moment. 

“I still need to talk with him,” she said, glancing away. “And I’m not saying that you and I are getting back together, Oliver. You have to understand… there’s a lot of trust issues between us. I’m not fully sure that I can ever get over that.” He nodded. Of course, he could understand that. “But… I don’t want to toss out years of friendship either. We’ve been a part of each other’s lives for a very long time. And… for some reason, I can’t seem to ever walk away from you. So, I’m going to stop fighting it and just embrace it.” 

“I… yes. Okay,” he said, still unable to articulate what was on his mind. 

“But I’m going to need you to do something for me,” she said seriously. “If this is going to work - us being friends again - you need to let me in. No more pushing me away because you think it’s for my own good or you think I deserve better. I get to decide whether or not you’re part of my life. And right now, I want you there.” He nodded again. “And I know that it’s hard and you’re still working on it, but please, if you need to talk, talk. It doesn’t have to be with me but keep talking to someone.” 

“I will,” he said. “I don’t want to push you away anymore.” Emmie smiled slightly and nodded. “And I understand. I think it’s good… to start over.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Emmie replied. They both stood there staring at each other a few moments. It was a bit awkward. Neither were sure what to do. Did they hug? Shake hands? Say something more?

“So… you’re going to talk to Flint?” Oliver ventured, hoping he wasn’t treading on to thin ice. Emmie sighed and nodded.

“We talked a lot after you left, but he said that I needed to sort things out with you before we could continue on with anything between us,” she said, finding it easy to confide in him again. Though it was a bit uncomfortable considering she was talking about her possibly, soon-to-be ex-boyfriend with her definitely ex-boyfriend. “Going over this weekend to talk things out. See where we go from here.” 

“He really is a good bloke,” Oliver said. “I hope things work out.” Emmie smiled at him.

“I have a feeling one way or another, they will,” she said. She glanced around the flat. “Well… I should be going. Got some things to do.”

“Right, yes,” Oliver said, moving towards the door. He opened it and let her out. “Hope to see you again soon, Mac.”

“You will,” she said before turning and walking down the hall.

~~~

Emmie sat on Marcus’ sofa, shifting around as she waited for him to bring over the tea. She had felt better after her talk with Oliver, but now she was a bundle of nerves again, being not completely sure how this conversation was going to go. Sure she had felt it best to end their relationship, but she wasn’t completely sure if that’s what would happen.

“So… you think you’ve got things sorted,” Marcus said, sitting next to her and handing her a mug. She nodded and took a drink.

“It’s going to take some more time, but I think I’ve gotten them off to a good start,” she said. “We’ve decided to start over… as friends.” Marcus nodded as he thought it over. 

“Are you sure that’s what’s best for you? Or for Oliver?” he asked. 

“I think it’s what’s best for both of us,” she replied. “I mean… we’ve known each other for so long. Our parents are best friends. Our brothers were dating. We both play in the pros. We have a lot of the same friends. Like it or not, we were always going to be around each other. At least this way it can be less awkward. And honestly, I think I was getting tired of constantly fighting it… staying away from him and all.” She glanced over at him, noticing that he was staring down at his mug. “I haven’t completely forgiven him and he knows that. It’s going to take a fair bit of time before I can completely trust him again.”

“Do you think you two might get back together?” he asked, still not looking at her.

“I don’t know,” Emmie said, deciding to just be honest. “At the moment, no, I don’t think so. But… I don’t know what could happen in the future. He’s still got a ways to go in his own recovery. I want to be there for him, but just as a friend.” 

“What do you see for us?” he asked, finally looking over at her. Emmie took a sip of her tea, needing a moment to gather her thoughts.

“I don’t know either,” she said softly, meeting his eyes. “I know that I care for you. That this could be a good thing… but I don’t know if that would work out either.” He nodded slowly. 

“Suppose it is still rather new when you think about it,” he admitted. “We did kind of rush into things a bit.”

“Yea, looking back, I think we did,” Emmie said. “I really wanted to prove to myself that I was over Oliver, I think. And that wasn’t fair to you.” 

“Like I said, I knew what I was getting into,” Marcus said. “Do you think that you’re over him now?” Emmie shrugged.

“I feel like… we’ve finally had some closure after everything. And that I’m closer to being over him,” she said truthfully. 

“Reckon that’s a decent start,” he said with a small smile. “Emmie… I don’t want to stop seeing you, but in light of everything, I think that… perhaps we should take a step back. Seeing as we both feel as though we rushed things a bit… might do us some good to start over as well.” 

“I think… I think that’s a good idea,” she said. Sure it meant they were breaking up, but at the same time, neither were completely shutting the door on the relationship. There was hope for the future. “Besides, I have way too much fun hanging out with you and Adrian to stop spending time with you.” 

Marcus chuckled and shook his head.

“Sure Adrian will be disappointed,” he said. 

“It’s not like we’re saying that we’ll never get back together,” Emmie countered. “Just… shifting the boundaries a bit. We can still go out with him and Marissa.” 

“This is true,” Marcus said with a sigh. Emmie stared at him a few moments.

“Marcus… thanks,” she said. 

“For what?” he asked. 

“For… being you,” she replied. “Being so patient and kind with me. I’m not sure many other blokes would have taken this as well as you have.”

“I won’t lie. It hurts. I really did think that we had a good thing. But I also know the best things in life are worth waiting for,” he said. “And well, if there’s anything I _really_ know, it’s that change takes time.” 

“That it does,” Emmie said with a sigh. 

“But… it’ll be alright. Whatever happens,” he said. Emmie chuckled.

“You know, you really are starting to sound like a Hufflepuff,” she said. 

“Suppose you lot have rubbed off on me,” he conceded. “But it’s not a bad thing.”

“I certainly don’t think it is,” Emmie said, smiling at him. He nodded. 

“Well… now that that’s out of the way, fancy getting something to eat and drink with Adrian? Had plans to meet him tonight and you’re more than welcome to come with me,” he said. Emmie thought it over but then smiled at him apologetically.

“Normally I’d love to, but got some friends of my own waiting on me,” she said. Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Kara and Melanie.”

“Right… sure they want the full rundown of things,” he said with a chuckle.

“Isn’t that why you’re meeting Adrian?” Emmie asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Marcus laughed softly.

“Yea,” he confessed. Emmie finished her tea, placed the mug on the table and then stood, Marcus following her. They walked to the door, once again the same awkwardness settling in. But rather than give into it, Emmie turned and hugged him, kissing his cheek.

“See you later, Marcus,” she said, smiling up at him.

“See you later, Em.”

~~~

“So… let me get this straight. You’re going to be friends with both of them?” Melanie asked, giving Emmie an odd look from where she was sitting on the floor leaning on the coffee table strewn with a large amount of food and a bottle of tequila. Kara had everything set up when Emmie arrived back from Marcus’ and she was barely able to get away from the first shot to go to her room and change. 

It seemed the two were re-instituting their weekend sleepovers. Melanie and Kara were already in their sleep clothes and had a pizza along with the alcohol. Emmie wasn’t completely sure how they expected either of her talks to go, judging by the sheer amount of liquor and food present. 

It was almost as though they thought she’d come back a wreck and in tears. Melanie even looked slightly disappointed that Emmie was laughing and fine. Just how devastated did they think she would be?

“Yes, I am,” Emmie said before taking a drink of her beer. She looked back and forth between her two friends. “What?”

“Just… you’ve slept with and dated both of them. How long do you really think this friends thing is going to last?” Melanie asked. Emmie chuckled and rolled her eyes. 

“Look, it’ll be fine,” she said, sitting up on the sofa. “We’re all adults.”

“But what happens if you get the two of them in the same room together? Or at the same gathering? Merlin, they both know,” Melanie said, though there was a slight twinkle in her eye. Of course, she’d be excited about the possibility of drama.

“Or… things get a bit heated and you end up falling into bed with one of them?” Kara asked. “The feelings are still there for both. Could only be a matter of time. Or alcohol.”

“I highly doubt that they’d get into a fight or duel to the death over me,” Emmie said while laughing. “And no. I’m not going to throw myself at either of them. No matter how drunk I get.”

“You never know with Wood,” Kara sang. 

“He really is trying,” Emmie said, turning her gaze to her best friend. “I really don’t think he’s going to get in more bar fights. Or, you know… attempt to seduce me. Not really his style. Or Marcus’, now that I think about it...” 

“But it’s not been that long. Wood could get jealous or something,” Kara said. Emmie sighed and looked back and forth between Kara and Melanie.

“Look. I think it’ll be fine. I’m not dating either of them. Both know that it’s just friends,” Emmie said. “And I’m happy with that. Besides, I need to keep focused on my game if I’m going to make rookie of the year.” 

“Good gods, it’s Hogwarts all over again,” Melanie moaned. “Just when I thought you had learned how to have fun…”

“It’s not like I’m refusing to go out with you,” Emmie said, tossing a cushion at her. “In fact, now we can go out more since I’m not spending all of my time with Marcus.” 

Melanie hugged the cushion, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Right,” she said slowly as she started to smile. “This is good. Especially since that one’s jumped ship on me. Yes! I have a wingwoman again!” Kara rolled her eyes.

“Just because I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I’ve jumped ship,” she scoffed. “I still go out with you.”

“Yea, but not nearly as much. But doesn’t matter. Now I have Em to come out and play while you’re off shagging Fincher,” Melanie said gleefully. Emmie just laughed as Kara scowled at Melanie.

“Do you honestly think that’s all we do?” she shouted.

“Likely,” Melanie said in between giggles. 

“You’re impossible,” Kara huffed. She then turned her gaze to Emmie. “But… since you are now single again… any thought to dating other blokes?”

“Merlin, I literally _just_ broke up with Marcus today,” Emmie said, laughing. 

“Yea, well, while you’re figuring things out, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t test the waters a bit,” Kara said with a shrug.

“I swear, if you’re trying to set me up with Karl again,” Emmie warned.

“But we could be sisters for real!” Kara whined. Obviously the last tequila shot was hitting her. 

“No. I’m not going on a date with your brother,” Emmie said firmly, though she was still smiling. 

“Fine. Be impossible,” Kara grumbled as she reached for her drink.

“Besides, we all know that despite everything, she’s going to end up marrying Wood. Or Flint. Maybe you could find a way to marry both of them,” Melanie said. Emmie just laughed, finding the statement too preposterous to even comment on. “I mean… they are both rather fit… Merlin, now suddenly glad that I’m not you… I wouldn’t know who to choose…”

“Have neither of you been listening?” Emmie asked. “I’m not dating - or marrying - anyone right now.” 

“Still… one can dream,” Melanie said, reaching for the tequila bottle.

“You dream about Emmie getting married?” Kara asked, barely stifling her laughter. 

“Yes, because someone has to make me a cool aunt,” Melanie said lightly.

“What about me? I could get married and have kids too, you know!” Kara shouted. 

“Yea, but Emmie’s kids will be much cuter. Merlin, I can’t even imagine how yours would look with Fincher as the father,” Melanie said, carefully pouring three more shots. Kara sat up on the sofa, her mouth open in shock as Emmie continued to laugh.

“For what it’s worth, I think they’ll be adorable,” Emmie said. Kara looked over at her, smiling slightly.

“They would be,” she said. She then settled back on the sofa, quickly trying to hide her smile. “If I had imagined them. Which I haven’t, thank you very much.”

“Sure,” Melanie said with a snort. She then leaned over, placing the two shot glasses in front of Kara and Emmie before picking up her own and holding it out. “To… best friends and wing women.” 

“To people getting their shit together.”

“To… happiness.”


	26. Happily Ever After

_July 2003_

Emmie sighed as she sat back on the sofa, clad in a white silk robe, and sipped at her champagne while chaos seemed to reign around her. Kara and Melanie were running around searching for the bouquets that were supposed to have been delivered to the tent an hour ago, the both of them shrieking at some poor assistant. Taylor was doing shots of firewhiskey in the corner with Parks, Whitshire, and a reluctant Fincher. People were rushing in and out, giving various updates on the arrival of guests, the food, drinks, and so on. As were various visitors. Already Adrian had popped by for a few minutes, though then left to go check on the groom. He said he’d be back soon, though Emmie doubted that, knowing there was a better stock of firewhiskey over there.

She was fairly certain the groom’s room was far less hectic and mad than hers, though she wasn’t sure just why everyone was so frantic. The wedding was going to happen regardless of whatever mishaps could pop up. 

“Merlin, are all weddings this mad?” Alex asked as he sat next to her, his own glass in his hand. He looked around the bustling room with wide eyes. “Mine was nothin’ like this.”

“I thought you and Malcolm wanted a small one?” Emmie countered. 

“We did. Though it’s not like it’s legal or anything,” he replied. Emmie reached over and squeezed his hand. 

“It will be some day,” she said, smiling softly at him.

“I don’t mind so much. We love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together. That’s good enough for me,” he replied, smiling. “But seriously… how mental were all the other weddings you’ve been in?

“As I recall, Kara was apeshit level… though Taylor wasn’t so bad. Ah, but Marissa was a little worked up as well when she and Adrian got married,” Emmie said thoughtfully as she went over all the weddings she had been in over the last four years. “I was just a guest at Percy’s and George’s, so not sure how mad they were behind the scenes. Knowing the Weasleys, I’m sure there were a couple of fires that had to be put out. And that George was likely behind most of them.” Alex chuckled as he looked over at her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. 

“Perfectly fine. Not sure why everyone else is in such a fit,” she said with a laugh before sipping her champagne.

“Sure it’s not because you’ve had a few too many of those?” he asked, motioning towards her glass. “Or did Mum give you a calming draught?” Emmie laughed and shook her head. 

“I’ve only had two glasses. And no. No calming draught,” she said. “I’m just incredibly happy that this is my wedding day and there’s not much that could upset me.” Alex nodded and looked around the room.

“Finally… made it to this day,” he said with a sigh.

“What? You thought it wouldn’t happen?” Emmie asked, looking over at him.

“I’ll admit, there was a year or two when I thought you’d likely remain single forever just so you could win every quidditch award possible,” he said. Emmie chuckled. “Maddening, really. You got rookie of the year and turned into a monster.”

“I did not!” Emmie shouted, shoving him slightly. “And look who’s talking, Mr. Chaser of the Year 2002.”

“Yea, but you got it this year,” he said. Emmie just rolled her eyes and then looked around the room. Truth be told, she was slightly surprised that this day had finally come as well. It was true that she had turned her focus to her career for the most part. Recovering from the war. Relationships were the farthest thing from her mind after Oliver and Marcus. 

But as with most things in life, love seemed to have popped up when she least expected it. 

“You think Da’s over giving him ‘the talk’?” she asked.

“Is his only daughter getting married today?” Alex shot back. Emmie chuckled. 

“Perhaps you should go save him,” she replied. “Make sure that he’s not pissed himself in fear.”

“Like that would happen,” Alex retorted. “We both know Da’s all bark and no bite. He’s probably just using it as an excuse to get into the top shelf firewhiskey over there.”

“Fairly sure that’s why Adrian hasn’t returned,” Emmie said with a sigh.

“Alright, gentlemen, going to have to ask you to leave. It’s time to get the bride into her dress,” Mrs. MacKenzie announced as she walked into the tent, grinning. She had been misty-eyed all day, though it appeared they were about to start falling as she gazed over at the garment bag hanging up on the other side of the room. 

Emmie sat up and kissed Alex on the cheek. 

“I’ll report back later,” he said as he stood and then walked out behind Parks, Whitshire, and Fincher. Emmie stood and immediately, her mother had rushed up and wrapped her arms around her in a crushing hug.

“Can’t believe my little girl is getting married today,” she said softly. 

“Mum, you’ve known this day was coming for the last several months at least,” Emmie replied with a chuckle. “Knowing you, probably longer.” Mrs. MacKenzie stepped back from her, taking her face gently in her hands.

“I know, just… one thing to think about it. Another to finally see it,” she replied. 

“Oh, I totally called this,” Kara said as she and Melanie carefully took the dress out of the bag. She glanced over at Emmie with a smug smile.

“That’s only because she told us that she was planning to propose at the Christmas party,” Melanie retorted. 

“Blimey, that was brilliant,” Taylor said, walking over to help with the dress. “The look on his face…”

“Well… suppose us MacKenzies like to do things a bit differently,” Mrs. MacKenzie said as she smiled at Emmie.

“Did feel a bit bad… had no idea he was planning to propose on New Year’s,” Emmie replied, pulling her robe off. 

“Well, you both got rings out of it,” Melanie said cheerfully as she and Kara held the dress out and Emmie stepped into it. “Though seriously… why do all the groomsmen have to be taken?” Emmie snorted slightly.

“You do know that most of the League is here, right?” Taylor commented. “Fairly sure you’ll find more than enough single dance partners out there.”

“Ah yes… fit quidditch blokes,” Melanie said, a starry look in her eyes. Emmie rolled her eyes.

“Can we focus on getting me dressed for now? I’d rather not go down the aisle with half my dress undone…”

~~~

Alex walked into the groom’s tent and stopped, looking around with a confused expression. The only people in there were his father and Adrian Pucey, who seemed to be discussing something quidditch-related as they sipped at their firewhiskey. 

“Where’s the groom?” he asked, stepping over to them.

“Oh, poor bloke spilled some firewhiskey on his dress robes. Threw a bit of a fit and the others are helping him clean it up,” his father replied as Adrian chuckled. 

“It’s an easy spell. Not sure just why he got out of sorts over it,” he added. Alex turned at the sound of loud, barking laughter.

“NOT HELPING, GEORGE!” he heard Percy shout. Alex’s eyes widened as he heard his father and Adrian continue to laugh. He then sighed and walked over, grabbing a glass of firewhiskey. 

“Seems someone could do with a drink,” he said, stepping back over to his father. 

“Pretty sure Percy’s the same whether or not he’s been drinking,” Adrian commented. 

“Tried to get the groom to have one with me, but he’s a bit too nervous,” Mr. MacKenzie said.

“Then how did he spill firewhiskey?” Alex asked. 

“George,” Mr. MacKenzie and Adrian said at the same time. Alex nodded his understanding.

At that moment, George walked into the tent, still grinning and chuckling. 

“It’s not that bad,” he said. “You know how Perce is. And Oliver’s just feeding off it. Though I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this nervous. I tried to tell him to just think of it like a quidditch match.”

“How did that go?” Alex asked. 

“Not well, from the look he gave me,” George replied. He looked around the room. “Where’d Flint go?”

“Think he went to see Emmie,” Adrian said. “Katie and the others were asking after her, so he’s supposed to check on her and report back.” 

“Now that’s another thing I thought I’d never see… Flint dating a Gryffindor,” George said. 

“Didn’t Emmie set them up?” Alex asked, thinking it over. 

“Saw them chatting at a Halloween party and ran with it,” Adrian said. “Have to admit, she’s better at it than I am. I thought for sure that I had it right when I was pushing her and Flint together…” Mr. Mackenzie cleared his throat and Adrian glanced at the taller man slightly nervously. “But then again… makes sense that she and Oliver would end up together,” he finished quickly. George chuckled and walked over, getting his own drink. 

“We all knew that Mac and Wood would end up together,” he said. 

“Not necessarily,” Alex said. “They did break up for a few years.”

“Minor obstacle,” George said lightly.

“Ehm… don’t really think that was a minor obstacle,” Alex started. But he stopped speaking as Percy and Oliver walked into the tent, Percy glaring at George and Oliver looking as though he had swallowed a flobberworm.

“How is she?” he asked, his eyes falling on Alex. 

“Cool as a cucumber,” Alex said. “Really, just relax, mate.” Oliver nodded as he looked around the tent. 

“Really, one firewhiskey won’t hurt,” George said. “You’ve long had it under control. And it’s not like Percy’ll let you get pissed before you go down the aisle.” Oliver looked at him and nodded, then walked over to the table.

“Suppose it could help with the nerves,” he said. He picked up a glass and then looked over at Alex. “You’re sure she’s fine? I mean… still time for her to change her mind.”

All the men in the room laughed at the poor man.

“Oliver… Emmie did ask you to marry her. I highly doubt she’s going to change her mind,” Alex said. 

“Right, yea,” he said, slowly bringing the glass to his lips. Alex glanced at his father, who just gave him a small nod and smile. He then turned to Oliver and pulled him over to the corner of the tent while the others continued chatting and drinking. 

“How you feelin’?” he asked.

“Like I’m about to jump out of my skin,” Oliver admitted. Alex chuckled.

“You look about like that. Relax. All the work’s done. You just need to stand and wait for Em to walk towards you,” Alex said. 

“I know,” Oliver said with a sigh. “Just… part of me thought we’d never end up here. After everything and all…” He then locked eyes with Alex. “I really appreciate you being my best man.” Alex just smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s what Ryan would have wanted,” Alex said softly, his thoughts going to the older Wood. 

“Yea, it is,” Oliver said. “And… I’m sure that he’s happy for you, you know. You and Malcolm.” A sad smile graced Alex’s face.

“I like to think that he is,” he said. “And that he’s up there, looking out for us and all.”

“I’m sure he is,” Oliver replied, already seeming to calm down tremendously. They both looked over as Mr. and Mrs. Wood walked in, both smiling, though Mrs. Wood had tears in her eyes.

“Oh… you look so handsome,” she said, rushing up to Oliver and hugging him. Mr. Wood walked over to Mr. MacKenzie, who held out a glass to him. Alex stepped over to his father, giving the mother and son a moment alone together. 

“Seems you’re doing a good job of keepin’ him calm,” Mr. Wood said, smiling at him. 

“Doing the best I can,” Alex replied. 

“How’s Malcolm doing?” Mr. Wood asked. Shortly after telling Oliver about him and Ryan, Alex had finally come out to his parents and introduced them to Malcolm. He then went over and had a long talk with the Woods, who were just as accepting as the MacKenzies - helped that in large part, Mrs. Wood already knew. Over the years, the two families and regained their closeness, often getting together on holidays. They had accepted Malcolm into the family just as easily as everyone else. 

And it turned out that he hadn’t had much to worry about. Once he was out to his friends and family, the press didn’t make as big a deal about it as he thought they would, though there had been a bit of blowback. Though Alex quickly squashed it when he returned to first string, just as good as when he had left. 

“Good. Think he’s off entertaining the rest of the family,” Alex said. “Told me I should be focusing on looking after Emmie and Oliver.” 

“You know, Elise and I were talking… you’ve been together awhile. Shouldn’t you two be thinking about kids?” Mr. Wood asked. Alex choked on his firewhiskey as his father turned to Mr. Wood.

“We’ve been after them about the same thing. About time someone made me a grandad,” he said loudly. 

“Not that easy… and you’ve got Em and Oliver,” Alex said, still sputtering over his drink.

“WE’RE NOT EVEN MARRIED YET!” Oliver shouted from the other side of the room, his face bright red as all the parents present chuckled and George howled in laughter. 

Before anyone could say anything, a frazzled assistant rushed into the tent.

“It’s time,” she said, looking around the room. Alex looked over to Oliver, who gulped.

“Let’s get this wedding started!” George shouted exuberantly. Oliver only nodded.

“Right. Yes. I’m getting married.”

~~~

Emmie breathed slowly, feeling the nerves start to jerk through her as she gripped her father’s arm. She was waiting behind Percy’s niece, and the son of a MacKenzie cousin playing with the flower petals. Taylor, Melanie, and Kara were already lined up and waiting their turn to go down the aisle.

“Now you get nervous?” her father said, chuckling as he smiled down at her. Emmie smiled up at him. “I’ll no let you trip.”

“I know,” she said. “Just… after all this time… can’t believe that this is finally it.” She looked towards the heavy fabric as the music changed and two workers pulled it aside, motioning for Taylor to walk out. 

“Seems like it’s been a long time coming, aye?” her father said softly. “Honestly, I knew all along that you two would end up together.” Emmie snorted.

“Did not,” she replied. Calum raised his eyebrows at her.

“Aye, I did. You came runnin’ into the house one day, covered in mud with a bright grin on yer face. Proclaimin’ that you’d asked Oliver to marry you,” he said. Emmie’s eyes widened. She didn’t remember this. “Couldna have been more than four at the time… He said no, so you pushed him into a mud puddle and held him there til he said yes.” 

Emmie felt her cheeks heat up and she was sure that she was blushing. 

“I did that?” she asked.

“Aye. That was the day I was for certain you’d be a Gryffindor like tha rest of us,” her father replied. “Got that one wrong, but the other… that was right… Thankfully you didna need to hold him down in a mud puddle to get him to say yes this time.” Emmie chuckled as she looked towards the fabric, seeing that Melanie had now gone out. Her heart sped up as butterflies filled her stomach at the thought of meeting Oliver at the end of the aisle. 

“Thankfully no,” she replied. Calum glanced towards the Kara in front of them and then back at Emmie.

“You two… you’ve been through a lot… but you found your way back to each other,” he said softly as Emmie looked back up at him. “I think that makes for a mighty strong foundation. I’m happy to see you happy, Em.”

“Thanks, Da…”

“It’s time.”

They both stepped forward, waiting a bit before the fabric was pulled back and suddenly, they were standing at the end of the aisle. Emmie’s eyes lit up as the butterflies fluttered furiously in her stomach. She didn’t see the large branches of the trees that covered the now standing guests. Nor did she see the fireflies dancing lazily above them or the floating lanterns. 

As they started down the aisle, all she could see was Oliver standing there, grinning back at her.

~~~

“Stop fidgeting,” Alex whispered as he stood next to Oliver.

“Can’t help it. What if she’s changed her mind? Done a runner?” Oliver whispered back, his eyes trained on the draping at the back that opened and let the flower girl and ringbearer enter and make their way down the aisle. Victoire toddled along purposely, dropping petals on either side of her while Emmie’s other little cousin stopped to pick them up, attempting to put them back into her basket. There was a smattering of chuckles among the guests.

“She won’t,” Alex said. “For some reason that I can’t understand, she’s in love with you.” Oliver whipped his head over to look at Alex, his eyes wide. He relaxed slightly when he saw that he was grinning at him. He let out the breath he had been holding and looked back, eager to see her. She had been adamant that he did see her or the dress until the moment she walked down the aisle.

In all honesty, he nearly could not believe that it was about to happen. Not after everything they had been through. It had taken forever for them to finally admit their feelings to each other in sixth year. And then he had botched things up when his brother had died. Then the war. For a time, he thought that he had lost her forever. 

And then, in truly Emmie fashion, she had given him another chance. Was patient with him, though for a time he could tell in her eyes that she was afraid. Afraid that he would hurt her again. He was equally as terrified of the notion.

It had taken a long time - they hadn’t even started dating again until about two years ago - and there had still been some difficult moments. But rather than shutting down or running away or hiding his feelings, he learned to open up to her again. 

And now they were here. 

Oliver held his breath as the curtains opened and he saw her standing there with her father. He couldn’t help as his mouth dropped open as they started down the aisle, Emmie grinning brilliantly at him.

Her dress was solid lace on the top with long sleeves, with her shoulders and collarbone visible through the lace. Her long, wavy hair was pulled back, cascading down her back. 

“Blimey…” he whispered as a grin filled his face. 

“Don’t forget to breathe, mate,” Alex whispered next to him. Oliver shook his head, letting out his breath. 

“I’ll try not to…”

~~~

Emmie grinned up at Oliver as everyone stood and clapped, a few cheering. Fireworks went off overhead and she was sure that it was George’s doing from the scowl coming from the wedding coordinator.

Oliver kissed her again as they remained under the forest awning while all the benches disappeared and tables appeared around the outside of the space. Music started up as a long line of well-wishers formed before them. 

“Think we have some work to do,” Emmie said, glancing at the incoming guests.

“And then I’m dancing with you and never letting you go for the rest of the night,” Oliver said softly, pressing his lips to hers again. 

“Oi! Get a room!” George shouted, causing the two to look at him and laugh. They then turned to their guests, thanking each one for coming. Emmie saw Marcus standing with Adrian and the rest of her team. Katie on his arm. He smiled and lifted his glass towards her. She nodded in return. 

As time had passed, the two slowly realized that they were better off as friends despite their earlier chemistry. What’s more, Emmie had quickly noticed the spark between him and Katie Bell - noting that it was much stronger than theirs had been. It appeared she had been right as the two started dating shortly after she had set them up three years ago. And he had told her a month ago that he was planning to propose soon. 

“Come now! Come now! Let’s let the happy couple have their first dance as husband and wife!” her father shouted over the noise. Emmie looked up at Oliver as he held his hand out to her. She accepted it and he led her to the center of the dance floor before placing his other hand on her waist. 

“You’ve been practicing,” Emmie said, still smiling.

“Course. Didn’t want to embarrass you,” Oliver said, pulling her closer. “What would the reporters say if I tripped you and sent you splaying across the floor?” Emmie laughed loudly.

“You could never embarrass me, Oliver,” she said. 

“You sure about that?” he asked, his eyebrows raised. “Nearly fell over when you proposed.”

“That wasn’t embarrassing. Besides, who cares what the gossips say,” Emmie replied.

“True… all that matters to me now is that I get to go home to you every night. Grow old with you,” he said. “Perhaps have a few kids…”

“We’ve just been married,” Emmie replied, blushing. “Surely there’s time enough for that.”

“Of course, there is,” he replied. The two went silent as they stared at each other. A soft smile came over Emmie’s face. “What’s that for?”

“Just… happy,” she breathed. 

“I make you happy?” Oliver asked, sounding almost surprised. Emmie chuckled.

“Yes, you daft boy,” she replied. 

“Well, you make me happier than I’ve ever been Emmie,” Oliver said. A shiver ran down her spine and for a moment she wondered just how long they needed to stay at the reception. He stared at her a moment, a thoughtful expression coming over his face. “Tell me… just why did you decide to give me another chance?” Emmie smiled at him.

“I think… I realized that sometimes two people need to part ways in order to find each other again,” she said softly. “Sometimes it takes falling apart to realize how much you need something.”

“Certainly got the falling apart bit down,” Oliver said, grimacing slightly.

“But you pulled yourself back together,” Emmie replied. He nodded and smiled, then bent down, kissing her softly and lingering a bit longer than she expected.

“Oliver… there are people watching,” she whispered, though she was slightly breathless.

“Let them watch. I meant it, Emmie… I’m not letting you go ever again,” he said.

“Good. Cause I have no intention of letting you go either.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’ll admit straight up - I hadn’t intended to write a sequel. I was happy to leave Emmie MacKenzie alone and such, but several readers on FF.net mentioned wanting more and then, as I tend to do, when listening to music one day, I got a niggle of an idea for a scene in the sequel. I had been toying with the idea - namely I wanted to do a story centered on Emmie playing professional quidditch a few years later. And I didn’t see Emmie and Oliver together in it. And then the niggle got a bit stronger. Which was a post-war story. Then “The Education of Oliver Wood” was born… 
> 
> Fair warning to those who read the previous story - things have changed. This story is a bit darker, more adult than the previous one (which I had intentionally wanted to be light and fluffy…) People have changed. You may not like who people have become at the beginning of this story. You may not like decisions they make. Grief and trauma does that. Hell, even without that - people change as they grow. And we have to go through a variety of experiences before we ultimately become who we are. But one thing I do know - people do crazy things, sometimes things that are harmful to themselves and others, when dealing with grief and trauma. They push people away. They fall back on unhealthy coping mechanisms. They sometimes lose sight of who they are and who they want to be. But ultimately it comes down to each person finding their own way out. Sometimes we allow others to help on this journey. And sometimes we realize that we are the only person who can pull us up from rock bottom.
> 
> And sometimes we have to grow apart from something or someone to realize just how much we need that thing or person in our lives. People change. And sometimes we have to accept that - the good and the bad. So, I suppose this is a story about that.
> 
> There is a lot of set up in the first few chapters, but don’t worry. You’ll get to see what’s going on in most people’s heads – especially Emmie and Oliver (the story tends to go back and forth between their lives for the most part). But expect a lot of characters from “Reckoning” to return. And in surprising ways…


End file.
